Duality~1
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I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.
There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.
“Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken.”
”• Jane Austen, Emma
As I sit here reading all the copious notes and latterly the diaries recalling that time of change and before, I wonder what it was that marked me out to be different. Perhaps it was He, in his infinite wisdom, who decided that my life would be as it was, or was it just a strange succession of chances that took me down the road of my strange life.
I believe that all of us have the chance to shape our own futures, no matter how humble a beginning one has, but it helps to have a certain amount of luck and good fortune to attain ones hearts desire
And so to my strange story. I would ask you, gentle reader to put aside any preconditioned ideas and notions regarding gender and to open your mind to accepting the facts as they are and not as society would sometimes wish them to be.
I was born in the year Eighteen Hundred and Two. I knew little of my true parents, as I understood that they had both been stricken with consumption. All I was told of them was that they were genteel but had no support from their family. I did not even know their names as those who knew, were sworn to secrecy.
I was never told why John and Harriett had agreed to take me on, but assumed that some financial recompense was put in hand to enable them to do so.
John and Harriet Digby therefor brought me up and although not by any means rich, they managed to look after me as well as all the other children that they had brought into this world.
We lived in Leicestershire near the town of Market Lowerbury. John Digby was a blacksmith, and a very good one indeed. Horses were brought to him from far and wide due to the skill and care that in which he carried out shoeing. If anything needed mending, it was known that his forge was the place to go to have the best work carried out. He, with the help of his sons, Benjamin and Arthur worked hard, long hours to keep up with the strong demand for their services.
There were three other boys, Mark, Luke and John jnr, who had flown the nest and worked on farms far and wide. John and Harriet had one daughter, Julia, who was in service up at the manor and of whom we saw little of. She was eighteen years old and very pretty. She used to mother me when I was very small and I loved here dearly. I was heartbroken when she went to work at the manor. I was by far the youngest child in the family at the age of thirteen. My name, by the way was George.
I was small for my age and of slight build, too pretty to be a boy and suffering because of that. Other village children, boys and girls used to pick on me for being to gentle in my ways and not able to stand up for myself. Indeed I was often mistaken for a girl and ridiculed for wearing boys clothes. I was a sickly child and was often abed for a number of ailments. If any illness was about, I was the one to get it. I had the mumps, measles, whooping cough and many a complaint of the belly. All this made things very hard for my adoptive parents, but they bore me no ill will for my lack of robustness and I, in turn, loved them dearly for their care of me.
The bills for the doctors must have been horrendously high, but never was there a complaint from my parents for the cost and I will never forget their kindness and obvious love for me.
As a family, I suppose that we were comparatively well off. Blacksmithing paid well and we lived as comfortably as one would expect having such a craftsman as John working his magic with metals. I was relatively happy, buoyed up by the love of my family and my unlucky health never brought me down to a level where I felt sorry for myself. I thanked The Lord for my good fortune each and every day and as for the other children in the village, I just kept out of the way and to some extent, I was soon forgotten by them.
My mother, who used to be a Sunday school teacher before marriage, taught all the children their letters and sums. She encouraged us all to read and write and we were one of the few families in our village where all, even I, were fairly competent scholars and we were lucky to have a small library of divers books where all were encouraged to read at our leisure. Not that there was much time for leisure as the boys were working with their father, all the hours that God gave and I was tasked with helping my mother around the house so that the men would come back to a cheerful, clean home with hot food on the table, as and when needed.
It was a standing joke, that I was more like a girl than a boy. In helping my mother, I often wore an apron similar to hers when helping around the house, as it was frowned upon to get ones clothes dirty unnecessarily.
Most boys, I was sure, would have balked a doing such demeaning women’s work, but I was different as I was always grateful that I was part of the family and I would do anything to help wherever I could and anyway, I secretly enjoyed the work which, to me, was much better than the very heavy labour undertaken by the men of the household.
It was the summer of the year Eighteen Hundred and Fifteen when my life changed for ever.
My step-father died.
It still hurts to this day when he died. There was an accident in the forge. Somehow a blade that he was working on snapped and in breaking, it sliced into his arm.
Benjamin and Arthur were out at the time fixing the wheel of a carriage that had broken in a lane some distance from the forge, so no one was there to help Father who evidently bled to death.
I will not dwell on that horrid time, where everything seemed to fall apart. After the funeral, Benjamin and Arthur were apprenticed to another blacksmith in the next village. They could not keep up our fathers business, because they lacked the skills and expertise.
Money grew very tight at that time and my mother found it hard to make ends meet, even though all the children tried to contribute to the upkeep of the house. Unfortunately, Lord Phillips of the manor owned the house and forge and as such we did not have any rights. In a very short space of time, my mother had been given notice to leave and then, despite entreaties from the parson and other well-wishers, we had no alternative but to leave the only home that I had ever known.
Mother and I stayed with a relative in Upper Lowerbury, a cousin, I think.Upper Lowerbury was a small town, about six miles from where we used to live, so it was no great distance for us to travel.
I think that the air must have been good to me, as I felt much better and stronger after moving to Lambton. However, my mothers cousin did not take to me, neither did her husband, who could not reconcile the fact that I appeared far too feminine for his liking and was not of their blood.
He was a strong man, a butcher, in fact and I tried to keep out of his way as much as possible. He frightened me and would get cross at the slightest thing. He hated the idea that I was happier in the kitchen than outside doing more manly things. My mothers cousin was a mousy woman and also in fear of her husband and I wondered where the love was in that marriage.
I had a room in the attic, which was cold and lacked any cheer. It is a wonder that I did not catch my death of cold as there was no fire present and I had to huddle in my nightshirt, under the covers at night during that severest of winters.
Of my mother Harriett, I have said little in this account. After the death of my father, she had withdrawn into herself, as I believed that she saw that her family had now been spit up after the loss of her beloved husband and our happy lives would never be the same again. She ate little and spent her days staring out of the window in her bedroom and scarcely spoke a word to anyone, although she always had a smile for me.
But there was something else…
Her health had suffered and it was of great concern that she seemed to wither away in front of me. Her other sons and her daughter visited very occasionally, but their work, to a large extent, kept them away.
One evening, my mothers’ cousin told me that my mother was calling for me.
‘Do not tire her, she is quite ill.’
I went to my mother and found her in bed; her face was almost as pale as the pillow her head was lying upon; her thin fingers tightly clutching the bedcovers.
‘George,’ she said, smiling weakly, ‘thank you for coming, my dear.’
‘What is it Mother?’ I asked.
‘You know that I have been unwell since your father has died?’
‘Yes Mother, but you look better…’
She smiled and shook her head slightly.
‘You and I both know that that is not true. Now not another word as I need to discuss your future.’
She reached for me and I held onto my mothers’ hand, which felt cold and clammy to the touch and wondered what she could be trying to tell me.
‘George; my time here is drawing to an end…no say nothing, I need to explain to you. I have lumps here.’
She pointed at one of her breasts.
‘These lumps are malignant and the doctor says that nothing can be done. I am in some pain, but the doctor has given some medicine to ease it a great deal, however the medicine makes me drowsy and I have no appetite. However, while I have still been able, I have been looking at your future. You must know that you cannot stay here and I would like to see you settled in a situation before I go to join your father.’
‘But Mother…’
‘Please let me speak George. I cannot go to my maker without trying to help you with your future. Your brother’s and sister all have work, for which they have a great future, but you have no prospects to speak of and we need to make sure that you are well taken care of.
‘We both know that you are totally unsuited to men’s labour. I would not see you put in a workhouse. You have helped me around the house for a long time and I know that you could do the job of a maid…I know, you are a boy, but face facts you may have a boys’ member, but you look so much like a girl, no one would question you. I feel that it is God’s will that you look and let us face it, act like a girl. I see no real boyish nature in you and never have.
‘You are gentle, have a kind nature, do not like rough boys games, have never acted in any way that indicated that you are a boy. The children of the village knew this and that was why you were treated so unfairly. Tell me truly, do you consider yourself a boy or girl. Be truthful now.’
I looked at her. The veil had been lifted from my eyes and I could see that I had been denying what I knew; that my mother was dying and that she was on her death bed. I could not lie to her and would not have done so anyway, as I had always been truthful to her.
I had always wondered why I had been cursed with the body that I had. Outwardly, I did look like a girl and it was only my male parts down below and that I wore boys’ clothes that gave lie to the fact that I was not as I appeared to be. I have to admit to observing the girls in my village and wondering what it would be like to be one of them.
I had also on many, many occasions asked God to change me into a real girl and not the in between thing that I now was.
So, I could not lie to my mother on her deathbed and I did not do so.
‘Mother, you know me more than anyone. I do feel as if there is something wrong with me. It goes against everything that I thought to be true. I have often thought that I was not a boy in the normal way and perhaps I was something in between a boy and a girl, but it goes against nature to think such thoughts even though I have prayed for me to be as I should be.’
‘It is difficult to go against all our teachings, but nature has a strange way of throwing up anomalies. It is God’s will and we should not question His purpose. You were put on this earth to be what you will be. Accept that you are the way you were intended to be. Perhaps it is a test of your true nature to go through such trials, but go through them you must.’
‘What are you saying Mother?’
She closed her eyes for a minute and I thought that perhaps she had gone from me, but she still breathed. Perhaps she was fatigued and had fallen to sleep.
I was going to leave her to rest but she then opened her eyes and smiled at me.
‘Forgive me George, I am so tired and it is sometimes hard to stay awake. Where was I? Oh yes.’
She took a deep breath and continued.
‘I have tried my hardest to find a position for you as a boy, but the work available would be too hard for you. I know your skills in helping me and so as a final throw of the dice, I wrote to your sister Julia. She is, of course, well aware of your somewhat unique situation and she too, like I, believes that you would not succeed in working as a boy, even if there was anyone who would be willing to take you on. As you know she works at the Manor. There is no one there who knows you and Julia has not spoken of us to anyone.
‘She has managed to get an interview for you with the housekeeper, Miss Gibbons. The housekeeper does not know that you are a boy. In the attic, in the room next to yours, there are some of Julia’s clothes from when she was about your size. Julia is coming this evening and will take you away. She comes to see me and has had permission from her employers to visit on compassionate grounds.
‘You and Julia shall stay overnight at an inn which has been booked for you. At the inn you will change into Julia’s old clothes and from there you will tomorrow continue on and be interviewed at the Manor. I have some little money still saved for you both, so that you can pay your expenses.
‘But Mother, you have little money…’
‘…and I cannot take it with me, so you shall have the benefit of it. Now George, I grow tired, but let me say finally to you that I love you very much and hope that you are able to be a credit to your father and me, God rest his soul. I realise that by presenting as a girl, you may feel that you are deceiving people and that would be considered sinful, but I truly believe that your heart and soul is that of a girl and that you should try to live your life as a girl and perhaps, God willing, a woman for as long as you can. Now Dear George, kiss me and leave me as I need to sleep.’
I did as I was asked and I left my Mother already asleep before I had left the room.
I felt numb at what had transpired. The awful knowledge that my darling Mother was dying overshadowed almost all of the other things she said about my future. Almost distractedly, I went upstairs to the attic and found Julia’s trunk. I dragged it to my room and then, leaving it aside unopened, I lay down on my bed and cried my heart out.
I awoke to a gentle shaking; rubbing my eyes, I sat up, and there was Julia.
‘Oh Julia,’ I cried as I arose and rushed into her arms.
We were both crying as we hung on to each other in our desperate unhappiness.
After some moments we sat on the bed, holding hands.
‘Oh Julia, I cannot leave Mother like this. It is as if I am deserting her.’
‘Dear George, I feel as I do, but you know Mama, she has a will of iron and she believes that you would be better off elsewhere, especially as Uncle William and Aunt Sophie have not taken to you. She has been told by the doctors that her illness could last several months yet and she does not want you to see her in even poorer health than she is now. We must do as she wishes and hope that you can gain a position at the manor.’
‘As a girl?’
‘Yes.’
‘D…do you think that I look like a girl?’
She considered me for a moment and then smiled.
‘Yes, I have always thought that there was something about you. You are far too pretty to have ever been a boy. I know that you have male parts, but that does not take away from the fact that you are as much of a girl in manners and deportment as any girl that I have ever seen. That is why I believe that there is no deception in what we are doing.
‘Perhaps when you grow older you will start to be less feminine and if, and I say if that happens, we will deal with it, but for the moment you are and will be treated as a girl. However Uncle William and Aunt Sophie know nothing of our plans and both Mama and I feel that it is best to keep them in the dark. The trunk, as far as they are concerned is for me and I will be taking you to a place where you might gain employment. That is all they need to know. To be honest, I regret to say that they do not care where you go and that works well for us.’
‘I worry about Mother being left here.’
‘Aunt Sophie, for all her faults, loves Mama and will take good care of her. She will keep in contact with me as to Mama’s condition and I will let you know of any change. Now George, get your clothes and belongings together. The carriage comes in an hour and I need to see Mama before we go.’
I said my goodbye to my mother and promised to write as soon as ever I could. It was hard not to cry in front of her, but I did so as I did not want our parting to be any more upsetting than it already was. To be honest, I do not think that she was fully conscious when I left her and I thought that perhaps, on reflection, that was a good thing.
I said goodbye to my uncle and aunt and my aunt had the goodness to kiss my cheek, but I could tell that there was no affection for me. After all, I was not a blood relative and that, to them, meant that I was not very important to them.
As the carriage took us away, I looked back at the house where my mother lay and I wondered if and when I would ever see her again.
We changed coaches twice on that journey. At some stage, Julia took out a long red cape and bonnet and bade me to put it on. I struggled to do so whilst the carriage swayed on the uneven road. I needed some help with tying the bow of the bonnet, but eventually, I sat opposite her and she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
‘Well Georgiana, you look every bit the pretty girl that you are.’
‘Georgiana?’
‘Yes, it suits you, don’t you think?’
‘I…I think so. Will we get away with the deception?’
‘What deception?’
‘I am a boy, aren’t I?’
‘Are you?’
‘I don’t know what I am. Mother told me things that made me think. I have never been normal, have I Sister Dear?’
‘You have never been normal as a boy, as a girl though, that is a different story. Are you happy to do this?’
‘Dress and act as a girl?’
‘Yes.’
I looked down at the red cape, which, due to its size, covered me to my ankles. My longish hair was encased in a red bonnet and the ribbons tickled my neck as I pondered the question.
This was the first time that I had ever worn girls clothing, apart from the aprons that Mother used to dress me in whilst helping her around the house. Somehow, I felt more at peace with myself, although the tragedy of my father and mother were never far from my thoughts.
Looking up at my pretty sister, I smiled.
‘Yes Julia, I am happy to do this.
We had some food sent up to us, as we would be uncomfortable eating downstairs with others.
Once the young girl had left us, I took off the cloak and bonnet, as it was rather hot, what with the roaring log fire in the grate, and sat down to eat the slices of ham, beef and tongue with rough bread washed down with weak cider.
I think that we were both tired from our journey and upset at the health of our dear mother. We could not go to bed yet, however as Julia had to explain to me what was going to happen the next day.
‘Miss Gibbons is the housekeeper and second only to the butler, Mr Jacobson. Miss Gibbons normally hires the female staff and Mr Jacobson the male staff. His Lordship and her Ladyship leave these matters to them unless there is some pressing reason not to do so. I am an upstairs maid but the position that you will be trying to obtain is one of downstairs scullery maid and will report to the cook, Mrs Downing.
‘The scullery maid is lowly position and she does most of the menial tasks in the kitchen such as cleaning, washing, preparation of vegetables and such like. I know that you have been doing all these things for Mama, so that you have some experience of those jobs. When you are interviewed, tell the truth about your experiences, as Miss Gibbons will soon find you out if you lie to her or the cook. She will not ask you if you are a boy or girl as it is obvious that you are a girl and you will be dressed as one. Boys do not get jobs as scullery maids.’
‘Could I not work as a page or footman or something?’
‘Those jobs only come up rarely and are much sought after. Also Georgiana, due to your size and lack of muscle, you will find that you would not be looked on in a favourable light if you applied for such a position. You must agree that you do not readily look the part of a boy. Even sitting there in boys clothing, I find it hard to believe that you were ever a boy. Indeed, since I last saw you, your features have softened even more and your shape is more feminine. At some stage, we will have to consult a doctor and get an opinion, but doctors cost money, which we do not have and so we have to deal with things as best we can. Do you agree?’
I nodded and then yawned.
‘You are tired, and so am I. We have a long day tomorrow and we need to get up early so that we can prepare you for the interview. From now on we must treat you as Georgiana. George is no more. In the chest is a nightgown, you must put it on and then I will brush your hair out.’
The gown was much like the one I normally wore but with more lace and frills and of a finer, softer material. There was a cheerful fire in the room and so I did not get cold as I changed out of my boys clothes. It was nice to have my hair brushed by Julia and I nearly fell asleep as she worked on my tangles. I had always like to wear my hair long and as other boys sometimes did so as well, I thought that I was not too much out of place.
After saying my prayers, I joined my sister in bed and bade her good night. I knew that the next day would be a trying one for me and I hoped that my Mother would be proud of me and that her faith in me would be justified.
How I would fare as a girl I did not know, but I knew that I would have to try my hardest to be what I appeared, a young girl of nearly fourteen, hoping to obtain the position of scullery maid at The Manor.
To Be Continued?
Please leave comments and kudos, if you have time...thanks!
* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Geogiana looks like this
Duality~2
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Themes:
Permission:
I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.
There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.
“I don't approve of surprises. The pleasure is never enhanced and the inconvenience is considerable.”
”• Jane Austen, Emma
Previously …
After saying my prayers, I joined my sister in bed and bade her good night. I knew that the next day would be a trying one for me and I hoped that my Mother would be proud of me and that her faith in me would be justified.
How I would fare as a girl I did not know, but I knew that I would have to try my hardest to be what I appeared, a young girl of nearly fourteen, hoping to obtain the position of scullery maid at The Manor.
And now the story continues…
I awoke early the following morning not quite knowing where I was. It was still dark outside and for a moment, I thought that it was still night-time. Then I glanced over to the corner of the room where my sister Julia was washing her face by the light of a candle and I recalled everything that had happened in an instant. I was staying at the inn with Julia. Today we would go to the manor where I would be interviewed for the position of scullery maid.
Yes, I would present as a girl and not the boy that I was born as.
The fact that I had always thought myself different from others was now quite clear to me. I was slightly built and had a gentle nature. I had not the strength or inclination to do as other boys did. I was not for rough and tumble and doing manly things. I much preferred the gentler pursuits of the fair sex and I was in fact, as far as I was concerned, a girl in all but name.
Not that girls did not work hard. I knew just how my mother toiled all her life to make our family home a happy one. Many women worked the fields or in service as my sister did and there was no way that anyone could consider their labours as anything but hard work.
But now I would have to be a girl anyway. Any thoughts about reverting back to George were not possible. I had started a chain of events that was, for all intents and purposes, not one that I could change, even if I was inclined to do so.
I sneezed as the air in the room was somewhat dusty.
‘You are awake Georgiana? Good, we need to make haste as your appointment with Miss Gibbons is early this afternoon and we have many miles to travel. As a boy, it was easy to dress and then get on, but we girls do not have it so easy and we need to ensure that you look every inch the young, well brought up girl that you are. We may not be so well bred as some, but our mother brought us up genteel and we need for her to be proud of us and not shame the family name.’
I was fully awake now and without further ado, I used the chamber pot and then got ready, for the first time, to go out into the world fully dressed as a girl.
I must admit to a thrill of anticipation as I took off my nightdress and washed my face, hands and feet. Luckily, the embers of the fire still glowed and the room was warm.
As I dried myself with a cloth, Julia put some clothing on the bed for me to wear.
‘These should look nice on you. You must not show airs and graces and dress above your station, which, to be frank is the lowest of the low. But still you must make a good impression. If Miss Gibbons agrees to take you on and you work well, then you will advance from a scullery maid and then, even, in time, be perhaps an upstairs maid like me. Would you like that?’
‘Of all things dear sister. You are so kind to be sure. I do not know what I would do without your kindness.’
‘You are my sister Georgiana, and that is what good sisters do. Now let us make haste as the stagecoach arrives at eight and we have yet to breakfast.’
A little while later, I found myself sitting at a table in the inn having a rough breakfast consisting of bread, ham and cider as the water was somewhat suspect. It felt strange wearing the long blue muslin dress with shift and petticoat beneath. Also, the knit stockings that I was wearing, held up by ribbons, did little to make me feel any less exposed.
I would be pleased to wear my blue bonnet and travel cloak on our travels, kindly given by my sister, as it was cold outside and the stage coach was not noted for its ability to keep the cold out.
All too soon the call came that the stagecoach was arriving. We walked out to the yard, trying to avoid the excrement and other waste matter getting on our long dresses and struggling with the luggage at the same time.
With the help of some men from the inn, our luggage, such as it was, was loaded only the coach and then we were helped in.
It felt strange to be assisted in such a way by men. I wondered how they would feel if they knew that really I was a male under my female attire? Although, to be honest, I felt anything but a boy now.
In the coach, was a rather portly man, fast asleep and what I took to be his wife, a shrewish looking woman with a hooked nose and a look that did not bode well for our travels with her. I had the feeling that she didn’t particularly like our company. I did not particularly like the smell. I wondered if either of them actually washed very often.
Julia and I did not have the opportunity to speak freely under the steely glare of that unpleasant woman and therefore I sat back and watched the scenery go by.
I must admit that my mind was mainly taken up with trying not to bring up my breakfast, which at that moment lay heavily in my stomach. My delicate stomach did not like it when the coach wheels hit a rut or went over uneven ground. I suppose that we were lucky though, as at least it was not raining and we did not have to contend with muddy roads.
To take my mind off my discomfort, I wondered what my reception would be at The Manor, where I was to hopefully gain a position. Would Miss Gibbons be a kind woman? Would she realise that I was not as I seemed?
Only time would tell if I was to make a success of this venture and in some ways I was just hoping to get the interview over with so that I would know my fate. Failure was not an option that would readily contemplate.
We made two further stops, the last one before our destination saw the shrewish lady and her companion leave the coach. We had not spoken one word to her and I for one was pleased that she had finally left.
The last few miles to the manor seemed to take an age. Julia tried to make me feel better and less anxious.
‘Do not worry dear sister; you are concerning yourself unnecessarily. Miss Gibbons is a strict woman, but fair. We are at the moment short of staff and I am sure that she will accept you. But here, look, there is the Manor, what think you of it?’
The sick feeling in my belly left me as we made our way up the long drive. The Manor, to my eyes looked huge, with many rooms and extensive lands. I wondered sat how many bedrooms the great place had, but I would no doubt find out soon enough.
The stagecoach went around the side of the house and then to the back. It was only some time later that Julia told me that she had to pay extra for delivering us directly. Normally we would have been dropped off in the village and we would then have had to find our own way to The Manor, not an easy task with our luggage, such as it was.
‘Leave the luggage by the wall,’ said Julia as she led me through a door.
For my part, I found it strange to walk wearing a long dress that went down to my ankles. I had to hold it up as I walked, as it was slightly long for me.
I found myself in a large kitchen, with sinks, pots and pans everywhere and all manner of equipment I assumed for the preparation of food.
To one side a woman in an apron was kneading dough. A younger girl appeared to be washing vegetables and yet another was cleaning china.
‘Julia,’ said the older woman, ‘there you are.’
‘Good afternoon Mrs Bradbury. This is my sister Georgiana,’
Without thinking I bobbed a curtsy as I had seen my sister do on occasion.
‘Well child, at least you have proper manners, unlike some I could mention,’ said Mrs Bradbury looking pointedly at the girl washing vegetables.
The girl just sniffed but did not look up from her work.
‘Georgiana, this is our cook,’
I just smiled shyly, thinking that I should not open my mouth unless requested to do so.
‘Mrs Gibbons is in her room Julia,’
‘Thank you cook,’ replied my sister who took me by the arm out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
‘Right take off your bonnet and cloak.’
I did as she asked and she did the same, hanging our things on hooks with other outer clothes already there.
Julia looked at my hair and moved a few strands away from my face.
‘You look lovely Georgiana. Just go in there and be yourself, that is girl self.’
I smiled rather tentatively, knowing that the next few minutes would probably help shape the rest of my life.
Julia knocked on the door.
‘Come in!’
Miss Gibbons sounded annoyed for some reason. I hope that she wasn’t going to be annoyed with me, as that would not be a very good start, if I was to be employed, that is. I was aware that my position at The Manor was far from assured.
So, it was with an anxious heart that I followed my sister into the room.
‘Miss Gibbons, this is my sister, Georgiana.’
Miss Gibbons was a thin woman, about fifty, I would say, with iron-grey hair tied up in a bun. She looked me up and down as I bobbed a courtesy. Said Miss Gibbons in a voice that brooked no argument.
‘Leave us Julia.’
With an apologetic look and a gentle smile, Julia left us.
‘Well, Miss Georgiana Digby, you are no doubt aware that I am the housekeeper at The Manor. Your sister tells me that you have some experience of work in the kitchen and around your house when you were at home. Is that correct?’
‘Yes Ma’am.’
She riffled through some papers and picked up a letter.
‘Let me say before we continue, that this household is not like others. We do not just take anyone here because we are short staffed. We only accept new people if and only if they are up to the highest standards that we expect from workers at The Manor. Do you feel that you could achieve this?’
‘I do hope so Ma’am.’
She looked at me for a moment and then seemed to relax slightly.
‘At least that is an honest answer. To continue, I have received a letter from your erm, mother, who sings your praises. Tell me why you think that you are suitable for the position?
I swallowed and then put my case.
‘Well Ma’am, I am a hard worker, willing to learn and able to work on my own initiative, if required. I know something of cooking, house cleaning, sewing, darning, and knitting. I enjoy hard work and feel that I would be useful to you.’
The last bit seemed a bit lame, but I could do nothing to retract any of my statement.
‘Do you read and write?’
‘I do Ma’am.’
‘Are you God fearing and attend church regularly.’
‘Indeed I do Ma’am.’
‘What are twelve times ten take away nine?’
‘One hundred and eleven, Ma’am.’
‘How do you spell specific?’
I spelt it for her.
She then asked divers questions and I managed, I think, quite well in answering them.
After my quizzing, she looked at me for a long moment and I wondered if I had given the wrong answers.
At one time, she must have been very pretty, but age and responsibility had etched lines on her face and made her seem perhaps older than my initial impression.
‘So you wish to be a scullery maid?’
‘If it is possible to do so, Ma’am.’
‘And you hope to be a good scullery maid?’
‘Indeed I do Ma’am.’
She picked up the letter from my mother. I wondered what were the contents? I hoped sincerely that she didn’t mention the not inconsiderable detail that I was a boy under my girlish finery.
She shook her head and then looked up at me.
‘It will not do,’ she said.
My heart sank; I was not going to be employed after all. I wondered then what would become of me, as I felt sure that I would not be welcomed back to the house of Uncle William and Aunt Sophie…
‘The position of scullery made will not do for you. You are intelligent, bright, presentable and subservient to your betters, all good qualities for a maid, an upstairs maid. It so happens that one of our upstairs maids has had to erm, leave for reasons that I will not go into.
‘Your sister is an upstairs maid and I will instruct her to teach you what needs to be known. I realise that you are very young, but your deportment and attitude appear to be older than your years. Are you willing to do this, bearing in mind that your station would be far above the scullery maid position that you are applying for?’
I did not think before replying.
‘I would endeavour to my best Ma’am.’
‘I take that to mean yes?’
‘Yes Ma’am.’
‘Sit down,’
She gestured to a wooden chair in front of her desk.
I carefully sat down, smoothing my skirts under me, as I had seen my mother and sister do often before.
‘You will be sleeping with your sister up in the attic. You will not fraternise with any male staff under any circumstances, even though, at your age I would not think that you would wish to do so. You will wash daily and bath using a tin bath once a week. Our master believes that cleanliness is next to Godliness. We are not one of those households that washing hands face and feet are enough.
‘You will learn all you can from your sister. She is a good worker and knows all that is needed to know. You will always speak respectfully to your betters and defer to them. Your sister will point out who is above you in this respect.
‘On no account are you to speak to the family or their guests unless requested to do so. Any conversation between the family or their guests are not to be repeated to anyone, regardless who they might be. As far as the family is concerned, you are to be seen, if the need arises and not heard. You are employed at the will of the master and lady of the house and you must obey the rules of the house or be dismissed. Is that clear?’
You are to make your own clothes from the bolts of cloth provided. Have you enough clothes to be getting on with?’
‘I think so Ma’am.’
‘Have Julia check over what you have. She will show you where the aprons and mob caps are stored.’
‘Yes Ma’am.’
‘Very well, stay here.’
She left me to ponder what she had said to me. All I had hoped for was to be a scullery maid. I knew that the position was the lowest of the low, but I was willing to learn and by hard work and diligence, I would, hopefully, advance. Now however, I had had the extreme fortune of being able to be an upstairs maid, something that I hadn’t ever hoped for. I determined that I should be the best maid I could possibly be and not let down my sister or Miss Gibbons for their faith in me.
Miss Gibbons returned a few minutes later, followed by my good sister who had a smile on her face.
‘Well Georgiana, welcome to The Manor, said Miss Gibbons, ‘I hope that my faith in you is justified. You are very young for the work involved, but I believe you to be a hard worker and hard work will bring its rewards. Go now with Julie who will show you where to go and what duties you will be expected to undertake.’
We both bobbed a courtesy and left the room. As the door was closed, Julia turned to me excitedly.
‘Well Georgiana, what luck you have. It just so happens that we are more in need of an upstairs housemaid than a scullery maid and better still, you are to sleep with me and I can teach you all I know. You will be able to wear nicer clothes, although you have to make them, but I will help there. Come let me show you our bedroom up in the attic.’
We went up several flights of stairs. I wondered at the drab appearance of the staircase and hallways, but it was explained to me that only the main house was finely decorated, as the servants areas did not warrant such luxury.
A few times I nearly tripped on my long skirts, not being used to such clothing, but I soon learnt how I should hold the hem of my skirts up as I walked up and down stairs.
At last we reached the top of the house. We went along a narrow corridor with several rooms each side and then we stopped at one of the doors. Julia opened it and waved me in.
It was a plain furnished room with a bed in the centre by the far wall. Next to the small window, there was a plain wardrobe and chest of drawers. In a corner was a washstand with a china bowl.
The walls were mustard coloured and could have done with a lick of paint. The bare boards had a well-worn rug on it, for which I was thankful.
‘What do you think Georgiana?’
‘It is nice.’
‘Not so nice as the rooms downstairs, but it does for us. Mind you, as we normally work from five in the morning until late in the evening, you wont have much time spent in here.’
There was a knock on the door and Julia opened it.
‘Here is your luggage Julia,’ said a male voice.
‘Thank you Frank, you are so kind.’
‘Anything for you Julia.’
‘Get off with you Frank.’
He laughed.
‘See you later then.’
Julia pulled my luggage into the room and closed the door. She had a smile on her face.
‘Frank is sweet on me, but I want to do better. He feels that if he does enough for me, I would swoon at his feet.’
I found it hard to believe that men would court my sister, but I wasn’t interested in that sort of thing myself for obvious reasons. Mind you, she was pretty, so I shouldn’t be that surprised that she might turn men’s heads.
‘Mind you,’ continued Julia, ‘that sort of thing is frowned on here. Staff should not get involved with other workers or God forbid, the Family on pain of the sack.’
‘Have no fear for me on that score sister, as that is furthest from my thoughts.’
We both laughed.
The rest of the day was taken up with Julia showing me the rooms where I would be working and teaching me some of the tasks that I would be undertaking each and every day.
The Manor was very large and had countless rooms. I was to be responsible for looking after a number of those rooms and I could see immediately why so many staff were needed.
I marvelled at the lush richness of many of the room’s, halls and staircases. Many portraits hung on the walls of deceased family members. Other paintings were of landscapes around the extensive grounds of The Manor.
There were also busts and statues aplenty and they, of course, all needed cleaning on a regular basis.
The walls and ceilings were richly decorated in the finest materials and the ceilings were works of art, depicting scenes from the scriptures and other worthy subjects.
To say that I was in awe of the place where I could now call home, was something of an understatement.
As I lay in bed on that first night with my sister Julia by my side, I confessed to her that I was somewhat overwhelmed by the grandeur and splendour of The Manor.
‘I felt the same when I first arrived,’ said she, ‘now it doesn’t seem to bother me.’
‘It would be nice to sleep in one of the main bedrooms,’ I said wistfully.
‘That will never happen. You are lucky to be where you are. There are many in much worse conditions than you.’
‘I know. I am a dreamer, I realise that. I am happy with my lot and I thank you for helping me so much.’
‘That is what sisters are for. Do you miss being George?’
‘I thought that I might, but I do not. Somehow my presenting as a girl seems right to me. I feel more comfortable. As George, I never fit in and to be honest always felt girlish. My brothers wanted nothing to do with me and nor did the boys from the village. The girls all thought that I was strange and now I know why. I should have been born as a girl. I hope that God is not angry with me?’
‘I am sure that he is not. He put you on this good earth to be what you shall be.’
‘It is strange that other boys from the village of a similar age have almost all had their voices broken, developed more muscles and sprouted whiskers when I have not. Also, I have a tenderness here.’
I pointed at the nipples on my chest.
My sister bade me to take off my nightdress and she had a look at the problem.
‘Hmm it seems that you are a bit swollen. It may be something of nothing; perhaps your dress has rubbed somewhat. It could not be anything else as you are hardly equipped as a girl no matter how much we would both wish it!’
We both giggled at that.
‘Everyone ages at a different rate,’ continued Julia as I re-dressed and got into bed, ‘although I must admit that I see no signs of such maturity in you. We must hope that it holds off for a while, but I believe that if you do not develop further, we must somehow get you to see a physician so that he might decide what the problem is.’
I was comforted by my sisters’ words, despite the fact that such changes expected in me would be ruinous to my prospects of staying employed at The Manor.
But worrying about the future would be futile and therefore I just thank The Lord for my present good fortune.
‘Because of my excitement of the day, I found that I could not sleep. Julia also had the same problem. I broached a subject that had been puzzling me.
‘Julia,’
‘Yes dear?’
‘Miss Gibbons said that my predecessor had to leave. Do you know why?’
Julia was quiet for a moment and then sighed.
‘You will find out soon enough. Tongues will wag below stairs and it would be useful for you to know what can happen, if you are not careful. You must not discuss this with anyone though, as it is an embarrassment to all of us.’
‘I will say nothing.’
‘Well Amy Sterling was your predecessor and she slept where you are now. She was sixteen years old and somehow had her head turned by a member of the family, the honourable Phillip, to be exact. At seventeen years old, he is the eldest son of the master and by al accounts, a bit of a rake. To cut a long story short, they had an arrangement and met at the disused hunting lodge at the far end of the estate on infrequent occasions. How many times we are not sure, but somehow she managed to sneak away on errands and such like and they, not to put a finer point on it, had intimate relations. Inevitably, she became with child and she had to be sent away.’
‘Oh my,’ I said, ‘what a silly girl.’
‘She was silly, but between you and me, I blame Master Phillip. Amy was a simple girl and gullible. He is and always has been headstrong and willful. The family, of course, closed ranks and no blame appears, in public anyway, to have attached to the masters son. I will say no more on the subject and you are not to repeat this conversation to anyone.’
‘I won’t Julia. I promise.’
Soon after, as we had to be up at an early hour, Julia blew out the candle and we went to sleep.
Life as a maid was a hard one, but I soon fitted in and was accepted by the others fairly quickly. I soon almost forgot the family scandal as the day to day work left me little time to think.
Work started early and we finished very late. At first, I found the work hard, as I was not very strong and I tired easily. Julia was there to help me though and I soon became more proficient in my duties and she was able to leave me to my work more and more often.
Much of the work was to keep the furniture clean and under the direction of Julia and Miss Gibbons I was kept hard at it.
We started the day in the main floor apartments–the morning room, dining room, library, etc. with cleaning stoves and fireplaces, brushing carpets and sweeping floors, shaking curtains, dusting ornaments and mirrors as well as picture frames, and finally polishing furniture, unless there is a footman to do so. We then did the same in the first floor public rooms–the drawing room and the like. All this before breakfast!
I will not bore my reader with details of all the work that had to be done each and every day. For those in service, you will know all about it for those who are not, you probably do not wish to know. Suffice to say, time went quickly and for that I was truly thankful.
With Julia’s help, I had made several print dresses from the bolts of cloth provided to me, I wore the dresses during my duties together with white aprons and caps. I soon got used to wearing female clothes and sometimes after just a short while, I found it hard to remember that I was ever dressed as a boy.
The other servants, in the main, were good people. I had to remember my place at all times and defer to my betters in everything. Miss Gibbons was a hard taskmistress, but she was a kindly soul under her rather strict persona and I did what I could to stay in her good books. The butler Mr Worthing was a portly gentleman who spoke little to the female staff except to give orders.
It was interesting at our meal times. We sat at a long table in a room next to the kitchen. As a mark of respect, we always had to stand when the butler and housekeeper came in and we had to wait for them to sit before we could also do so.
The food was good and there was plenty for all. Living at The Manor meant that no one would ever go hungry, and the cook liked good plain cooking for us, even though the food above stairs was more fancy for my taste.
It was in my second week at The Manor that I first saw a member of the family. This was possibly because most of the family had been at their London residence for about a month.
I was cleaning the grate in one of the bedrooms. It didn’t need cleaning in my opinion, as it had not been used for a month, but I was not to question my superiors and I went to the job with a will.
I was so engrossed in my work that I positively jumped when I heard a voice behind me.
‘Am I interrupting you?’
In my surprise, I dropped the brush that I was using onto the hearth; it made quite a din.
I stood up and turned around. Before me was a young man in refined clothing, obviously not a servant.
I quickly bobbed a courtesy.
‘I am sorry sir, I did not know that anyone was going to be here at this hour.’
He looked at me with a slight smile playing around his lips.
‘Obviously not. What is your name?’
‘Georgiana Digby, sir.’
‘You are a pretty thing…oh are you this sister of Julia?’
‘Indeed sir.’
‘She also is very pretty. How old are you?’
‘Nearly fourteen sir.’
‘Very young for your position.’
‘Yes sir, I have been lucky.’
‘I am Phillip Trencham, Lord Trencham’s eldest son.’
To Be Continued?
Please leave comments and kudos, if you have time...thanks!
* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Geogiana looks like this.
Sorry about the delay in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more in the future.
Duality~3
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I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.
There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.
“Run mad as often as you chuse, but do not faint.”.
― Jane Austen.
Previously …
I stood up and turned around. Before me was a young man in refined clothing, obviously not a servant.
I quickly bobbed a courtesy.
‘I am sorry sir, I did not know that anyone was going to be here at this hour.’
He looked at me with a slight smile playing around his lips.
‘Obviously not. What is your name?’
‘Georgiana Digby, sir.’
‘You are a pretty thing…oh are you this sister of Julia?’
‘Indeed sir.’
‘She also is very pretty. How old are you?’
‘Nearly fourteen sir.’
‘Very young for your position.’
‘Yes sir, I have been lucky.’
And now the story continues…
‘Have you finished your work?’
‘Yes Sir.’
‘Well Georgiana Digby, you must forgive me for startling you. I was not expected back until much later today. I will, I have no doubt, see you again.’
‘Am I excused Sir?’
‘Yes, Georgiana.’
I bobbed a courtesy and without looking at his face, I went past him and out into the hallway.
So that was the infamous Phillip, I mused, he is handsome, but there is a cruel twist to his face.
I had no more time to ponder the matter as I still had several rooms to sort out before the family returned. I hoped sincerely that I wouldn’t have any further surprises, as I did not think that my heart or constitution could stand it!
My new life continued on and I felt that I was getting quite good at the various jobs that I had to undertake as an upstairs maid. I had very little contact with the family. Indeed, the rare times that I did see them, it seemed like I was almost invisible.
I did not come across Lord Phillip for some weeks. Gossip in the servants hall was that he was away visiting relatives in Scotland. There was also a rumour that his father might purchase a commission in the Guards for him, but that had not been confirmed. The reasons why he had been sent away were not passed on to us, but I had a feeling that he was still in disgrace after the problems with my predecessor.
It seemed strange to me that we were supposed to keep secret all of the information that we heard when going about our duties, and yet, within the household, all manner of intriguing bits of information filtered down to us.
I was not displeased that Lord Phillip was not around as I remembered that, although he was civil to me in the one encounter that we had had, he was, I believe, a person not to be trusted and the last thing that I wanted was for him to make advances on me, as it appeared that he had a predilection to pursue girls of a lower station than himself, meaning everyone who worked at The Manor.
This was the opinion of my sister and I no had reason to disagree with her assessment. Indeed, she had implied that Lord Phillip had made a few advances on her over the course of the time that she had worked at The Manor.
I have spoken little of my fellow workers. I found them to be of varied character, some good and some not so good.
I believe that I got on quite well with my contemporaries; I think that I was accepted quicker, as I was Julia’s sister. Those above me in the pecking order appeared to enjoy their elevated status, but I had no quarrels with that, as it was the way things were in service. Those below my station, I tried to treat kindly, but I always felt that there was an undercurrent of resentment due to my age and the fact that I had not started on the lowest wrung of the ladder, so to speak.
I soon became used to wearing female clothing and I almost forgot that I was ever a boy. The only thing left to remind me was my male member, which, luckily, no one was ever going to see. I worried somewhat that I would start to grow manlier, with hairs on my face and body and all the other things that separate men from the fairer sex.
We worked as hard as the men of the household, but obviously our duties were different and perhaps did not require so much, shall we say, brute strength.
Julia had been worried about me because I never seemed to show any signs of “shooting up” or those other signs that I have heretofore mentioned. We had a plan that if and when I did begin to change, that I would give notice and move on to another position, as yet undetermined.
For my part, I never wanted to change and wondered when the axe might fall, so to speak. However, I seemed to get more feminine as the days grew into weeks and then months. It appeared that my breasts were growing and becoming somewhat tender. Julia said that she thought that it was just puppy fat, as I was now eating better and getting some meat on my bones as she rather crudely put it.
I was just pleased that I would not, at least for a while, have to leave this place where I felt that I belonged and was happy at.
I see that I have not mentioned my mother’s condition and how she faired since I had left her in the care of my aunt and uncle.
We had tried to keep in contact with Mother, but, when we wrote to her, the replies came from our aunt who said that she was too ill to write. We asked if we could visit, but were told that Mother wished that she would not be seen by us, as it would cause distress all round.
It made me wonder how she was, as she had been painfully thin and ill looking before. Little information was forthcoming from my aunt and uncle and that only exacerbated our worries and concerns for our Dear Mother.
I prayed nightly, as did my sister Julia, that Mother was not suffering and that her passing would be an easy one.
It was with sadness and pain and perhaps even relief that her suffering was over, that we learned of the passing of our dear mother, four months after my move to The Manor.
We were given special dispensation to absent ourselves for four days and go to the funeral and that gave us problems that we had to surmount.
As far as the rest of our family was concerned, I was still a boy. In the looking glass, I could see that now I looked anything but a boy.
I could have pretended illness, but I wanted to go to the funeral and pass my last respects to my dearest mother, who loved and cherished me always.
In bed, a few nights before we left on our long journey to the funeral, Julia and I spoke of the predicament.
‘I must go to Mothers funeral.’ I said.
‘I would not have it otherwise, sister. But we have a problem. We cannot dress you as a boy for a number of reasons. You no longer have the clothes and also, your shape and look is somewhat altered even in the short time that you have been assuming the role of a girl. I fear that you would not pass as a boy, even if you dressed as one.’
‘It is strange that I have not grown as I should have. Although I love being as I am and dread the day when all this changes.’
‘Perhaps we should seek the advice of a doctor,’ said Julia after a moment’s contemplation.
‘Then we reveal my secret.’
‘Not if we seek the assistance of a doctor away from here, perhaps after the funeral. There are a few large towns on our journey and there must be someone that we can consult on the matter and can be discrete and confidential. But this does not get over the fact that you wish to go to the funeral but I fear that you cannot be seen as you are, as there would obviously be questions.’
We lay there and thought for a few minutes. Even if I could, I would not want to go as a boy. Questions would obviously be asked about my appearance and I felt that I could not, at this stage, present myself as a girl.
‘I have an idea,’ I said, ‘what if I am ill.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Julia.
‘You could tell everyone at the funeral that I am unable to travel. My delicate health is well known with the family. I can then go to the wedding disguised as a friend or acquaintance of Mother perhaps. I can wear a closely fitted bonnet to help hide my face and wear that rather sombre grey dress that you have. It is slightly too big for me, I am sure, but it can be altered. As I say, you can tell anyone who wants to know that I am too ill to travel and we shall make sure that I am not recognised. No one would think of me as my mothers son, dressed thus and therefore I can pay my respects to Mother and then we could get away before anyone realises that I am not what I seem.’
Julia considered for a moment.
‘There are many risks attached to this idea. What if our brothers recognise you? I love them dearly, but when in cups, they rather tend to speak far too freely for my liking.’
‘Though it grieves me to say this Julia, but I agree, they are not to be trusted. No, they shall not know that I am at the funeral. Perhaps one day we will be able to tell them, but for now, we must keep our own council. But what think you about the dress?’
‘I have do have two dresses that are suitable. One, as you say is grey and the other is black. The grey one would suit better as you are not coming as one of the family. The black one, as you know, I wore it to Fathers funeral would fit me still and the other grey one is a little tight on me and we may be able to alter it to fit you. It might work, but only if you are discreet and not forward in any way.’
The thought of me being forward in any way made me smile. That, I was sure would never happen.
We spoke for a while longer; making plans and talking about the arrangements that would have to be made. However, being very tired, we were both overcome with weariness after a short while and succumbed to sleep.
The next day was a fever of industry for both Julia and myself. Apart from our normal duties, we had to alter the dress that I was to wear and make final arrangements for our travels.
I must explain that on our father’s death, all the children were given £20 each. Our parents had been thrifty in their spending and had a good income from the work that my father carried out over many years as a well respected blacksmith. Also our mother had given Julia a further £20 to help defray the costs of my leaving my life as a boy and moving to The Manor and more importantly, becoming a girl and all that entailed. We had most of that money left (we had little opportunity to spend it) and that gave us the opportunity to travel in relative comfort to the inn where we would stay over night and then on to the funeral. We had also to arrange accommodation at the inn on our return journey.
I must say that the housekeeper was very kind to us during that difficult time and was not the stern, unyielding and perhaps cold person that she had sometimes appeared to be. She spoke kindly to us after learning of our loss and she had readily agreed for us to go to the funeral, although it would give her something of a headache in trying to cover our duties while we were away.
That night, after such a hard day of work and preparation for the journey, I had hoped for sleep to come to me quickly, but it was not to be.
I lay awake, looking up at the ceiling by the glow of the logs on the small fireplace. I hoped that I would be strong enough for what lay ahead. Many things could go wrong and if I were to be unmasked, as it were, I felt that my life would be ruined.
I tossed and turned for some time, my mind going over and over again what might and could happen. Eventually, my exhaustion overcame me and I fell into a troubled sleep.
And so it came for us to leave The Manor. We left early, as we had to catch the mail coach and four in the village. We only had enough luggage that we could carry comfortably. We were to be away for four nights, that meant that we would have to wear our travelling clothes more than once, not ideal, but necessary under the circumstances. Twenty minutes fairly brisk walking found us outside The Feathers, where the coach was to stop on its regular journey south.
Luckily, the weather was fine and so it was no hardship to wait for the coach. I had worried that it might rain. The roads and lanes thereabouts tended to be little more than dirt tracks in places and many times wheels got trapped in the mud.
Even on fine days, travel could be uncomfortable as hard ruts in the roads could make travel dangerous and uncomfortable.
The coach arrived and we were lucky that a few people got out and we were able to take their place inside, as we paid full price rather than the half price paid by the several unfortunates on top. I shuddered to think what it would have been like if we had to travel outside with the luggage and bags. As it was, we were wedged in with a rather portly woman and two rather boisterous children.
I was feeling rather sick after a short space of time as the coach lurched over the uneven road surface. Luckily, the road became smoother after a few miles and I was able to settle back and enjoy the scenery outside for a while.
The children, a boy and girl, were smacked hard on their heads by their mother and that settled them down somewhat and then, thankfully, they fell asleep, as did their mother whose snores were nearly as loud as the wheels!
We changed horses several times and people got on and off as we made our way to the inn that we were to stay for the night. Just after eight in the evening, we arrived at our destination and after a small supper, we went to bed.
The next day was a similar journey, but not so far. We were to be at the church for three thirty. Arriving at The Bell Inn at a reasonable time, we had a meal and then went to our room and prepared for the funeral by washing and then, once we had scrubbed the dust from our journey off us, changing into our clothes for the church.
All the time my anxiety increased as the time drew on. My emotions were heightened at that time, as I was trying to grieve for the loss of our dear mother, together with imagining encountering what was left of my family and acquaintances when I was in the church.
It had been agreed that Julia and I would go separately to the church, as she would be sitting in the front as befitted a member of the close family. I would slip inside at the last moment and stay at the back of the church, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible under my closely fitted bonnet.
Soon enough I was ready to leave. Julia had already gone ahead. The bonnet hid my features rather well, I thought.
In the looking glass, I saw that I in no way resembled my former self. George was no longer there. I was Georgiana, a girl. I would have been surprised if anyone who knew me as George would ever think that I was still he. For I did not think myself as a boy any longer; I was a girl and proud to be so.
I put on my long cloak and made my way out of the inn and along the lane to the church. I would have to hurry, as I knew the service would start shortly. I could hear the bell tolling for the funeral of my mother and just hearing its mournful tone was enough for me to almost break down and weep.
From behind a tall gravestone, I saw my mothers coffin being carried into the church by my brothers, uncle and one other person that I did not know, but by the look of his clothes, I thought him to be well off and to be in his late twenties to early thirties.
I had little time to think further as it was time for me to enter the church.
I instinctively went to take my hat off as I entered the vestibule, remembering at the last second that, thankfully, ladies kept their heads covered. Years of taking my hat off when entering the church as a boy were now far behind me, I hoped.
The church was surprisingly full but there were pews enough for me to find one out of the way and out of the sight of prying eyes.
I will not describe in detail how the service went. In these times of high mortality, most people know the service by heart; I know that I did.
In any case, I said the responses automatically, my mind on my mother and father too and the times that I remembered when we were all a family together. I know that I had been taken in by my parents as a baby and was not of their flesh and blood, but they treated me as their own, as had my brothers and sister and for that I was truly thankful.
I was not the only one who cried during the service, with lace handkerchief wet with use.
I was fortunate that everyone was facing forward as my display of emotion almost overwhelmed me. Then suddenly I started as someone touched my arm. Turning I saw that it was the wife of one of my fathers’ customers, a farmer’s wife named Grace Hammond.
I knew her a little and she stopped sometimes to speak to Mother when we went to the shops in the village. My heart was in my mouth as I was sure that I had been recognised.
‘Are you alright, my dear?’ she said with concern in her voice.
‘I am sorry,’ I replied, trying to pull myself together, ‘I am somewhat overcome.’
‘Are you related to her?’
‘Erm, yes, a distant cousin.’ I said, without thought.
‘You should be near the front, with the family.’
‘My side of the family were estranged.’
‘I am sorry to hear that; you must have liked her. You are very upset.’
‘I…I remember happier times.’
Just then, the vicar spoke and I was able to avoid other uncomfortable questions. Why I had said what I did, I know not. I should not have mentioned any connection between the family and myself. I should have just said that I was an acquaintance.
Mrs Hammond held onto my arm for the rest of the service and I felt comforted by her presence, especially as she raised no more questions.
Eventually the service came to its inevitable conclusion. Mothers coffin was carried out of the church. As my brothers passed, I lowered my head so that they would not see my troubled countenance.
Others started to leave the church and soon there was only Mrs Hammond and myself left.
‘Are you alright now, my dear?’ she asked, with concern in her voice.
‘Yes indeed; thank you for your kindness.’
She looked at me keenly.
‘In that case I must go and find my husband. God be with you.’
‘And you too.’
A few moments after she left, I followed.
As was the custom at the time, after the service, only the close family and the vicar would go to the graveside for the internment. I for my part, hung back, and then when everyone outside the church had moved on, I followed the short procession to the graveside, stopping behind a tree some twenty feet from the funeral party.
I noticed, in passing that the strange man was once again carrying the coffin with my two brothers and my uncle.
I felt a little hurt and upset that I could not join the funeral party but understood that if I did so, it would leave myself open to discovery and almost certain scorn.
This was Mothers day for the final resting place of her earthly remains and I had no wish to take anything away from that. The only comfort I had as I sobbed quietly into my lace handkerchief was that she was going to Heaven to be with all the beloved people that had passed on before her including my dear Father.
To the left of me was a rose bush. It was not the time of year for any flowers to be out and yet, there was a single red rose high up that was blooming. It was a deep red and beautiful to behold.
By now, my sister, brothers, uncle and aunt, together with a few close family friends and the strange, well dressed man, were at the graveside with the vicar and all were concentrating on the unhappy task ahead.
I ached to be with them. To stand by them and share in the collective grief that we all shared at the loss of one of the kindest, gentlest persons that many of us had ever known.
But it was not to be. I could not chance discovery. My brothers would not understand and I was sure that my aunt and uncle would not welcome me, attired as I was – a girl.
It was quite windy and I did not hear the words that the vicar spoke at the graveside, but, after some moments, the coffin was lowered into the ground next to my father’s grave. A few more words were spoken and my brothers and sister stepped up to the graveside and threw some dirt onto the coffin, as was the custom at the time.
After a few minutes of silent contemplation, the party left. As they walked up the path, my sister Julia looked around for me and then when she saw me peaking out from behind the tall, wide tree, she smiled sadly and nodded her head slightly and then followed the others back up the path towards the church where goodbyes were to be said.
When the coast was clear, apart from the gravediggers who were having a pipe, prior to starting their work, I decided that I must go to the graveside. I looked at the rose on the bush and without thinking I plucked it. I would feel the guilt later, but at the time, I felt that it was the right thing to do.
Walking over to the graveside carrying the single rose, tears falling gently down my cheeks, I felt a sadness for what had happened. As a child, I always thought that my parents would be there for ever and now, as I was growing into adulthood, I realised that nothing was permanent or constant. Both my parents were at peace now and I hoped and prayed that they would find each other in Heaven.
The gravediggers stood back as I arrived, giving me a certain amount of privacy. Looking down at the polished wood of the coffin, I recalled the happy face of my mother when she was well. I wanted to remember that image, rather than how she looked the last time I saw her.
‘Goodbye Mother,’ I whispered, ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. I hope that you are proud of me and will look down on me with fondness.’
I threw the red rose onto the coffin, stood there for one more moment and then turned and walked away, trying to contain my grief, but not very successfully.
I walked down the lane away from the churchyard. I had arranged with my sister that we should meet again at the inn where we had been staying. We would be there for the night and then, early the following morning we would make our way back to The Manor, the place where I now called home.
For her part, Julia would stay with my brothers for a while; to catch up on all that had happened and console each other at that sad time and then she would follow on to the inn.
Walking in a dress was not as easy as walking in breeches and I had to hold my skirts off the ground, lest I get them dirty, or worse trip on the hem. It was one of the disadvantages of dressing as a girl, but one that I did not mind.
The day was cold and clear and I had plenty of time to think. My thoughts naturally turned to my mother, I was just relieved that her suffering was over, and for that I was thankful. However, thinking about these things made me feel sad and so I just tried to enjoy the day as best I could under the circumstances.
A few carriages passed me and I just stood aside and bowed my head, in case I might be recognised. I was glad of my cloak and bonnet as the road was dusty and the wheels and hooves did little to help and blew up clouds of dust as they went by.
I was getting near the inn when I heard the sound of hooves coming from behind. As before, I went to the side of the road and waited for the horse and rider to pass, bowing my head, so as not to be recognised by anyone that I knew.
The horse went by and involuntarily, I looked up only to see that the mysterious man who had helped carry the coffin was the rider!
He glanced at me touched his finger to his hat and road on.
His clothes, his bearing and his horse, all gave me a feeling that this was someone of substance. I wondered what his involvement with my mother was; it could not be anything to do with my father’s work surely?
I recalled that my father had several rich and influential families that used his services, but I recalled none of them ever visited us in person to say change a wheel or have the horses hooves reshod. Servants, stable lads and suchlike carried out duties of that nature and in any case, my mother would not get involved with my fathers business. It was all very strange indeed.
And yet, there was something about the look of the man that struck a cord with me. I felt that somehow I knew him or perhaps recognised him, but I did not know where such recognition came from.
Just who was he?
To Be Continued?
Please leave comments and kudos, if you have time...thanks!
* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Georgiana looks like this.
Sorry about the delay in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more in the future.
My thanks go to Nancy Cole for her help and assistance in writing this chapter.
Duality~4
Author:
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I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.
There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.
"A person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill."
― Jane Austen.
Previously …
I was getting near the inn when I heard the sound of hooves coming from behind. As before, I went to the side of the road and waited for the horse and rider to pass, bowing my head, so as not to be recognised by anyone that I knew.
The horse went by and involuntarily, I looked up only to see that the mysterious man who had helped carry the coffin was the rider!
He glanced at me touched his finger to his hat and road on.
His clothes, his bearing and his horse, all gave me a feeling that this was someone of substance. I wondered what his involvement with my mother was; it could not be anything to do with my father’s work surely?
I recalled that my father had several rich and influential families that used his services, but I recalled none of them ever visited us in person to say change a wheel or have the horses hooves reshod. Servants, stable lads and suchlike carried out duties of that nature and in any case, my mother would not get involved with my fathers business. It was all very strange indeed.
And yet, there was something about the look of the man that struck a cord with me. I felt that somehow I knew him or perhaps recognised him, but I did not know where such recognition came from.
Just who was he?
And now the story continues…
I continued on and soon found myself back at the inn. Making my way to our room, I ordered some small beer, bread and some chicken, as I was somewhat hungry. I knew that my sister would be eating with our brothers and the rest of the mourners so I had no need to wait upon her.
The meal arrived sooner than expected and I was glad of that as I wished to be alone with my thoughts and did not want to be disturbed more than necessary.
I could not get out of my head the fact that my mother was gone. I recalled when Father died and I felt the same then. It is very hard for one to loose people that have been so central to ones life. I had been surprised at how many tears that I had shed over the past week or so. My emotions seemed to swing from one extreme to another. One moment I was unaccountably happy and the next sad,
Then there were the times when I felt angry and frustrated at the least little thing. Was it normal for a boy, for regretfully I was one under my finery, to have such strange feelings?
I did not know and I wondered if the doctor, should we be lucky to find one, could possibly tell me what my problems were. I know that Julia was concerned about me and my lack of growth and maturity, not forgetting the various aches and pains that I sometimes felt. Much as I loved being a girl, I had already faced the fact that it could not last forever and at some stage, sooner or later, I would start to mature as a male and then my whole life would change again and not, as far as I was concerned, for the better.
As I chewed on a rather tough piece of chicken my thoughts turned to that strange man once again. I wondered who he was and what connection he had to my dear mother.
No doubt my sister would know more about him after speaking with my brothers, but still, it was all a bit strange and mysterious…
After my rough meal, I was feeling rather fatigued and my belly ached slightly, so I sat in the fireside chair and was dozing when I heard the door open and my sister entered.
She removed her bonnet and cloak as she looked down at me.
‘How are you Georgiana, you look rather drained?’
‘I am well Julia; just a little tired that is all. How did it go after the funeral?’
‘As well as these things usually do. Our brothers asked after you. I hated to lie to them but there was no alternative. They think that you work at the manor as a male servant as you know. They were concerned over your supposed illness, but when I told them that it was not dangerous but just a heavy cold, they seemed satisfied.’
Strangely she coughed a few times then but seemed to recover quickly. I hoped that she wasn’t coming down with a cold.
‘Who was that man who helped carry Mother’s coffin?’ I asked.
‘That was a strange thing. He arrived at the last moment and insisted that he should be a pallbearer. He did not introduce himself and just said that he was an old friend of our parents. Our brothers had never seen him, nor I, so he remains a mystery as he did not stop after the funeral, as he said that he had urgent business elsewhere. My feeling is that he did not wish to converse with us regarding his connection to our family.’
‘I saw him as I walked back to the village, he touched his hat to me and smiled but did not stop.’
‘Strange; well he will have to remain ever mysterious then. I see that you have eaten?’
‘Yes, you do not mind? I assumed that you would have eaten with the others.’
‘There was enough to go around. One thing, Mrs Hammond came up to me and asked who you were. I feigned ignorance, but I understand that she comforted you in some way?’
‘Indeed she did. I told her that I was an estranged distant cousin, which was silly of me as, I should have said something like a family friend, but I was too upset to think clearly.’
‘I do not think that she realised that anything was amiss, Georgiana. We have both been under a strain lately. It was good that you were able to attend the funeral and pay your last respects. I am sure that Mother would have appreciated it and have been proud of her new daughter.’
‘So you do not think me just a boy dressed as a girl?’
‘There has always been something about you Georgiana. You never really looked in any way manly as you would readily agree. All I know is that you are my sweet and loving sibling and that, as far as I am concerned, you are now and will always be the dearest sister than anyone could possibly wish for.’
We embraced for some moments and I felt truly that I was now accepted for who I was — a girl.
We were to leave early the following morning and would be stopping off at the nearest town to visit a doctor. Julia had taken the vicar aside and asked him if he knew a good physician that could help her with womanly problems. Of course, the good vicar did not, out of delicacy, probe her further as to what ailment she might have, but he did give the name and address of an esteemed doctor who might be of assistance.
The next morning we up and ready quite early for the journey to Temworth where Doctor Stone held his practice. We dearly hoped that the good doctor was available, as we had no opportunity to make a prior appointment with him.
As we went on our journey of some twenty miles, I fell into something of a reverie. Julia, who was fatigued due to lack of sleep the previous night and a few fits of coughing, was slumbering in the seat opposite me. Luckily for once, we were the only passengers in the coach and four and I was truly grateful for the privacy that afforded.
My thoughts flitted from one thing to another, My mother and father, my rather unique situation, what the doctor might say when we saw him and explained our concerns, if we were lucky enough to be able to see him, that is. Then there was the strange man at the funeral. Who was he and what connection did he have to Mama?
Eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep and before I knew it, we had arrived at our destination.
We were able to leave our baggage at the inn, where later we would have a meal before continuing our journey home.
After making enquiries, we were told that the inn was but a short walking distance to Doctor Stone’s rooms. I must admit to being somewhat overwhelmed at the number of people in the town and the hustle and bustle. I had been brought up in rural locations where there were few people compared to this.
There were horses, carts, carriages and many people thronging the streets. It did not help that it was market day and so there were animals like sheep, pigs and cows being walked down the road and in pens.
The smell was somewhat unpleasant also, where much of the effluent flowed sluggishly in gutter channels at the side of the road where, I assumed they led to the river. Then there was the horse and other animal dung that had to be avoided, easier said than done. It was not pleasant and the only good thing was that it was not a hot day.
The rather unpleasant sensations took my mind off my worries temporarily and all too soon, we arrived at our destination.
Doctor Stone’s rooms were in an impressively large town house on three levels. We knocked on the door and waited a few moments. The door was opened by a manservant.
‘May I be of assistance?’ he asked politely.
‘We do not have an appointment, but my sister is in need of an urgent consultation if Doctor Stone is available. Our names are Julia and Georgiana Digby.’
The man servant looked past us, perhaps expecting up to be accompanied by someone older and then said, ‘If you would like to follow me, I will see if the doctor is available.’
We were lucky in some ways as we spoke and dressed quite well and that gave the illusion of gentility and appearances far above our real station as servants. This was due in part, to the fact that we had been brought up by our mother who had, so we understood by implication, come from a family of some means. She had been cut off from her family on marrying our father, a man whose only crime was to be a blacksmith.
We were led into what was obviously some sort of waiting room with several chairs dotted about.
I had been worried about how we were to pay the doctor, but my sister told me not to concern myself about that.
For some minutes we waited. I was on tenterhooks that he might see us and even that he might not. I had seen doctors before and I had been told that I was a delicate child. I had had various illnesses and many were put down to growing pains, a delicate stomach or influenza and such like. I felt that most of the doctors had little idea as to what had been wrong with me and were only interested in their fee.
If he did see us, then perhaps he would be like other doctors and say the same things as they did. Perhaps I was being unkind and he did know his business better than others and then he might cast a light about what was happening to me and why I apparently was not growing as I should.
The other side of the coin was that he might not see me and then I would put off receiving unpleasant news. I was well aware of my mother recent death, the lumps in her body and the pain that she suffered. Perhaps I had lumps in my body and I might also have such a horrible and deadly illness.
As you can imagine, dear reader, I was working myself up into a frenzy and it was only the fact that Julia came over and sat by me, holding my hand, that gave me some sort of comfort and eased my somewhat troubled mind.
The door opened and the manservant came in.
‘The doctor will see you. You are lucky that he has a cancellation and has some free time. Please follow me.’
We were led out of the room, along a short corridor and then shown into what was obviously a consulting room.
Sitting behind a desk was a tall thin gentleman with silver hair. He stood up as soon as we came in and walked over to us.
‘Good afternoon ladies,’ he said shaking our hands rather firmly, ‘how may I help you?’
‘Can I ask,’ said Julia, ‘if this consultation will be confidential, as it is of a rather delicate nature.’
‘Let me assure you that anything said in here will remain secret and that I will not divulge any information to a third party, such as a colleague without your prior permission and approval, but you both look healthy enough young ladies although you, my dear,’ he said looking at me, ‘seem a trifle pale.’
I looked at Julia and she nodded reassuringly.
We were ushered into seats and Doctor Stone sat behind his desk.
‘Doctor, I am not as I seem.’
‘I do not understand…’
‘Please let me explain. I…I…I am in fact a boy.’
His rather bushy eyebrows rose at that comment but he said nothing except, ‘please continue.’
I told him everything, holding nothing back, finally explaining why I was now dressed as a girl and our concern that I was not growing as I should be.
He asked a number of questions such as my age, how well I ate and suchlike. He did not mention the status of my employment for which I was grateful.
“I will need to examine you. Do you wish this done in private, or perhaps with my wife, who assists me on occasion, or your sister present?’
‘Can my sister stay?’
‘Of course; please go behind the curtain in the corner and remove all your clothing and put on the robe that is on the hook. I regret that this type of examination can be rather embarrassing and somewhat invasive, but I need to know what is going on and that is the only way that can be done,’
I did as he requested, fumbling with the small buttons on my dress, as my hands were shaking. This was it, the time when I would hopefully find out what was wrong with me. I dreaded the possibility of finding lumps like Mama had.
All to soon I had divested myself of my clothes and had put on the robe, a simple white cotton garment tied in the front with thin ribbons.
I came out from behind the curtain.
‘Please come and lie on the examination table,’ said the doctor in a kind voice that helped allay some of my fears.
My sister came over and held my hand when I had lain down and that was of some comfort. I had no qualms about my sister seeing me in such a state of undress as she had seen me enough times before, but the doctor, that was different somehow.
At the doctors’ request, I undid the ribbons and pulled apart the robe and then he could see me fully.
I looked at his face, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but his feature remained impassive. Was he revolted or sickened by my body? I could not tell by his face.
He poked and prodded me in my stomach and groin area and then he felt my chest on and around my nipples. I gasped at that, as they were both a little tender, sore and somewhat puffy.
Then he once again, in more detail looked at my groin area, asking if I was in any pain. I replied that it was a little uncomfortable and I admitted that I had felt some pain the previous night but none that day.
The doctor looked at my tongue and then said that my teeth were in a surprisingly good condition. Finally after some more prodding and poking, he asked me to get dressed again.
My sister helped me to get dressed and we were soon sitting down awaiting his views about what might be wrong with me. My heart was pounding, as I was afraid of what he might say. Once again my sister held my hand as the doctor sat and wrote copious notes at his desk and looked at a few rather large books.
‘Well erm Georgiana, your tale was an intriguing one. I have examined you fully and found a number of things that interest me…
‘Have I got lumps like my Mama had?’ I blurted out, despite myself.
He smiled.
‘No, nothing like that, but by coming to me you realised that something is not quite right. I need to speak of things that might embarrass you both and for that I apologise. Georgiana, I have examined you fully and although I am no expert on the matter, indeed there are few that are, I have concluded that you are neither male or female but there are indications that you are more a girl than a boy. Does that shock you?’
‘I did wonder as I am unlike any boy I have ever known. I am small, somewhat weak compared to boys of my age and do not have the same interests as the boys I know and to my knowledge I have always felt like an outsider.’
‘I can understand how you feel. Having examined you, I find that your scrotum or sack is empty and has no testicles. In addition to this your penis is little more than a nub. Do you find it difficult to use it?
‘Yes, I fear that I sometimes make something of a mess,’ I said rather embarrassed at discussing the subject.
My sister rather reassuringly squeezed my hand as the doctor continued.
‘I feared so. Look, I do not know how much you know about the differences between the male and the female parts?’
I blushed. My sister had given me details about the differences and of course I had seen farm animals and many horses.
‘I am aware of the differences, sir.’
‘Good, that makes it somewhat easier to explain. I believe that your penis is actually a somewhat enlarged clitoris, which a female part. In addition to this, there is some indication of female organs beneath the skin. That information together with the pains you have been having and your tender and enlarged breast tissue, all lead me to the fact that you are essentially a girl…’
‘Are you sure doctor?’ asked my sister.
‘As sure as I can be without opening her up,’ replied the doctor, far too calmly for my liking.
‘So Doctor, what does all this mean to me?’ I asked.
‘Well, you probably feel that you have been misleading your masters regarding your feminine status, but, on balance, you are far more girl than you ever were a boy,’
‘Am I not ill then?’
‘You are different but not ill in the normal sense. Some children are born where it is not clear whether they are male or female and it is normally decided to call that child a girl or a boy depending on what appears that they mostly resemble. Mistakes are made and I feel that this happened to you. You say that you have been sickly since you were very young?’
‘Yes Doctor.’
‘I am somewhat surprised that your doctors did not query your status, but is sometimes far from clear in a baby.’
‘Are you saying that Georgiana is a girl?’
‘If I had been present at the birth, I would have said that on balance, Georgiana should be treated as a girl and not be brought up as a boy.’
‘And what of me now sir, will I become sick?’
‘I am no expert, but you should grow as a normal girl does. You will, of course not be able to have children or normal relations with men, but your breasts will grow and your shape become even more feminine than it is at present.’
‘What of the pains?’
‘Just growing pains…’
‘Doctor, what of her menses?’
‘Oh, as far as I have read, a child in Georgiana condition will not be troubled by that and she should be thankful for that!’
He laughed as if he had just made some sort of witty jest, but I did not think it very funny. I knew how much Julia suffered at certain times of the month.
We left the doctor after paying him one guinea. A lot of money, but he had, to some extent, put my mind to rest and confirmed what I had suspected for some time, that I was never really a boy called George. He told us to see him again if my pains got too much to bear, although the practicality of returning for a consultation was slim as the distance we were from The Manor was too great.
At The Royal Oak where we had left our luggage, we discussed, over some bread and rather hard cheese what we had discovered at Doctor Stone’s. At approximately two o’clock the carriage would arrive that would take us to our final stop before arriving home tomorrow.
‘Well Georgiana, what do you feel about the news that you have been given?’
‘Strange, I supposed that all this dressing as a girl was to end at some point when I became more manly. This will not be happening now and that means that I can stay at The Manor without the possibility of discovery. The only thing that saddens me is that I cannot have a child, as a man or woman.’
‘There are many men that cannot father children and barren women too who cannot have children. Also, being in service means that opportunities of that nature are few and far between for such as us.’
‘I realise that, but it would have been nice to experience what others can have. Anyway, enough sadness; I am to stay at The Manor and for that I am so happy and I am a girl too. We can be together and be as happy as we can be!’
Julia smiled at me and shook her head.
‘Ever the optimist Georgiana. Our way of life and the duties that we have to perform, as you know, are not easy.’
‘Yes I know, dear Julia, but look at how fortunate we are compared to the paupers on the street and those that live in housing barely fit for humans. We should thank God for allowing us to be so lucky.’
Julia just smiled sadly and looked as if she was going to say something else and then we were being called, for the coach and four had arrived and we needed to make haste.
~*~
We arrived at the inn later that day as the sun was dipping below the horizon. It was the same is as the one we had used on our outward journey and we had the same room as before.
Both of us were very tired from our journey and after a small supper, we went to bed without further discussion of what had transpired that day. Indeed, there was not much more that could have been said as we had both concluded that I was, for all intents and purposes, a girl and I would be for the rest of my life. I hoped that the pains in my body, specifically in my belly, would stop when I finally finished growing and maturing. I would have to put up with them as I assumed every other female in the world had to do so since Adam and Eve.
The following morning I was feeling much better and it was easy to forget the pains of the previous day. I was in a state close to euphoria remembering what had been told to me by the good doctor on the previous day. Julia though seemed to be quite and introspective. Her cough had developed a bit more overnight and it had drained her somewhat, leaving her pale and listless.
I did what I could to cheer her up, my euphoria draining away as quickly as it had come on awaking that morning. It was obvious to me that she had picked up a cold, probably from the town visit yesterday or sometime on our journey. Her forehead was a little hot and I hoped that the trip home would not fatigue her too much. We should, I hoped, be home by late in the afternoon and then she could go to bed early so that hopefully she would be all right for work on the morrow.
Unfortunately, the coach was crammed and the journey was, at times, most disagreeable, as it had started to rain and the roads became somewhat muddy and even treacherous in places. Julia thankfully slept through most of the journey, when she was not coughing. I could feel the heat from her through the muslin of my dress as she laid her head on my lap when the coach became less crowded.
I became very anxious for my dear sister and wished that the journey would end as soon as it ever could.
To Be Continued?
For those readers who may query some of the medical side of things in this chapter, please note the period that is being written about and that fact that I am not a medical expert.
Please leave comments and kudos, if you have time...thanks!
* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Georgiana looks like this.
Sorry about the delay in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more in the future.
Duality~5
Author:
Caution:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Themes:
Permission:
I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.
There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.
“Angry people are not always wise.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Previously …
I did what I could to cheer her up, my euphoria draining away as quickly as it had come on awaking that morning. It was obvious to me that she had picked up a cold, probably from the town visit yesterday or sometime on our journey. Her forehead was a little hot and I hoped that the trip home would not fatigue her too much. We should, I hoped, be home by late in the afternoon and then she could go to bed early so that hopefully she would be all right for work on the morrow.
Unfortunately, the coach was crammed and the journey was, at times, most disagreeable, as it had started to rain and the roads became somewhat muddy and even treacherous in places. Julia thankfully slept through most of the journey, when she was not coughing. I could feel the heat from her through the muslin of my dress as she laid her head on my lap when the coach became less crowded.
I became very anxious for my dear sister and wished that the journey would end as soon as it ever could.
And now the story continues…
Please forgive me dear reader for touching on subjects that are somewhat upsetting, delicate and embarrassing in this chapter. I regret that it is an unavoidable but necessary part of my story. Those of a delicate nature may want to avoid reading certain passages.
By the time we reached home, it was obvious to me that my sister was very unwell and was in a high fever.
Two of the footmen were called to help carry her upstairs
On instructions from the housekeeper, she was confined to our bedroom and the doctor called.
I was thankful for the kindness of everyone below stairs and I understood that the lady of the house, Lady Trencham, sanctioned the housekeeper’s actions.
For myself, I was grieved to see her so ill. She had always been strong and the illness had laid her so very low. We were informed by the doctor that she had the consumption and I was asked if there was any history of that dreaded disease in my family, as it was well known that it was hereditary.
‘No Doctor, I have no information regarding this. The family took me in when I was very young and the only people that I can say with assurance have not been ill with this is the members of the immediate family.’
‘So it is possible that relatives of the girl could have been consumptive?’
‘I suppose so.’
It was decided that my darling sister was to be bled several times and was declared to be in some danger of her life.
The blood letting seemed to do little to help her, nor did the various lotions and potions that were given. Julia’s wracking coughs and the blood on her handkerchief, together with the terrible fever all showed how very ill she was, despite the doctors and nurses close attentions.
She was kept wrapped up warm in bed with a raging fire as the fever caught hold. She rapidly lost weight and the vicar was called for on two occasions to give comfort to her.
For myself, I was let off duties and I was with her day and night. We were lucky, if that is the right word under the circumstances, as the family apart from Lady Trencham, were up in town and to those who of us that had been left behind, the work was comparatively light. In consequence, I was allowed a certain amount of leeway as to my work.
I could do little for Julia except give comfort to her on the few times that she was aware of my presence. It nearly broke my heart to see her the way she was. I was used to her being the strong one. Ready, willing and able to work hard with a cheerful smile on her face.
Julia had been the one person who knew all about me and my peculiar circumstances. I dreaded what things would be like without her. Then I felt a terrible guilt, as I had been selfishly thinking of me rather than her for a few moments. I prayed to God for forgiveness.
One evening, about four days after she succumbed to her illness, it was late at night and the nurse was asleep in the next room and I was alone with Julia. She was in a fitful sleep and her forehead was very hot to touch.
Earlier, the doctor had told me that he did not feel that Julia was strong enough to come through the illness and that I should prepare myself for the worst. He said that there was little more that he could do but await the outcome of the crisis.
I tried to be brave and strong at this dreadful news, but it was very hard. I was to lose my sister and could do nothing about it but see her waste away in front of my eyes, but I had to try to be strong for her and put my feelings aside.
~*~
The room was extremely warm with the fire blazing and as usual, the window was shut.
I was reading my bible next to her bed and I heard her moan something.
Getting up, I went closer.
‘Water,’ she whispered without opening her eyes.
I drew some water from the jug and poured some in a glass.
Helping her up slightly, I managed to get a few drops in her mouth, but spilt more than a little on the bed in the process.
‘So hot,’ she gasped, as she sunk back down on the pillow. ‘Where is Mama?’
‘She is away at present.’ I said.
‘I want a new bonnet. Will Mama let me have a new bonnet and some ribbons when she comes home?’
‘I am sure she will.’
All this was breaking my heart. She did not know where she was and she thought that Mama was still alive. She talked as if she was still a child and to her fevered imagination, Mama was coming home to her.
Julia drifted off to sleep again. Her breath was so shallow, she was barely breathing and I knew that it was nearly her time.
Sobbing, I got up and went to the window.
To me the room was unbearably hot so how would it be for poor Julia? The doctor said that she must be kept warm, but I just felt that it was wrong. Surely she should be cooled down?
Without further thought, I pulled the curtains back and opened the window. Then I got the jug of water threw it on the fire, extinguishing the flames in but a moment.
I went over to the bed and pulled the covers off my sister. Her emaciated body looked thin and wasted under her nightgown.
Her cheeks were flushed and she did not respond to my touch or words. I felt useless. Had I done wrong by cooling the room? Would I hasten Julia’s death doing something strictly against doctor’s orders?
I sat by her and held her hand and then rested my head on the bed. I was desperately tired, as I had little sleep since my sister had fallen ill. Without realising it, I fell asleep…
I awoke as I felt a hand on my head. Light was streaming through the open window.
Raising my head, I saw to my delight that Julia was awake and she was looking at me with a tired smile on her beautiful face.
‘Georgiana, you are tired?’
‘Yes my dear but that is nothing. Tell me how you are feeling?’
‘Weak as a kitten but my cough is better and my breathing also. I do not feel as if I am burning up.’
‘Your fever has broken and you look much better. I shall fetch the nurse.’
When the nurse came in, the first thing she did was to chastise me for opening the window and putting out the fire.
‘Look at Julia, she is better now.’
‘That is because the fever has broken. It would have broken earlier if you had left the window closed and had the fire lit.’
She was full of self-importance, but I did not agree with her in any way. I was overjoyed that Julia was getting better and so, for her sake, I held my tongue.
~*~
Julia managed to get much better over the coming weeks, but it was obvious that she was not strong enough to endure the hard work that was necessary to keep her position. It was decided that she would go and live with her Uncle William and Aunt Sophie, where, it was hoped that she would grow stronger and regain her strength.
The night before she left, we were in bed together for the last time. We were both tearful at her leaving and worried about the future for both of us.
‘Oh Julia, I do so hope that your uncle and aunt will treat you well.’
‘They looked after Mama when she was ill. I am sure that they will be kind to me, although I have not seen them often, they have always seemed kindly disposed towards me.’
‘I wish I could say the same. They have always been aware of my situation and the fact that I am not a blood relative. Sometimes they behaved very coldly towards me.’
‘Well, let us hope that you will not have to see them very much.’
‘I would want to come and see you.’
‘Your work will make that difficult, but we shall have to wait and see. I am more worried about you Georgiana.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I will not be here for you.’
‘But there is nothing to worry about now. Doctor Stone says that he thinks that I am a girl and not a boy. I will not grow hair where I shouldn’t and my voice will not change, also my itchy breasts are growing larger, just like a normal girl.’
‘I know, but I still worry about you. You still have the pains?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘You must promise me that you will ask to see the doctor if they do not go away?’
‘I will, dear sister, I promise. Now, I see that you have over tired yourself. You have a long journey in the morning and you need to be fresh for that.’
~*~
It was a tearful farewell with promises of letters every week on both our parts. As the carriage pulled away, Julia was leaning out of the window and waving goodbye. I wondered when I would see her again.
And so life continued. Julia’s replacement arrived a week after she left for her uncle and aunt.
Jane was a nice girl about a year older than me, but she wasn’t my dear, sweet sister. She had been in service in London, to an old gentleman who had died two months before. Being tired of London and having relatives in the area, she was able to take over Julia’s position at short notice. This was good, as that lessened the workload that had been increased considerably because of Julia’s illness and subsequent leaving.
I wrote to Julia regularly, as she did to me. Her health was improving, all be it slowly and she begged me not to worry on her account. For my part, I was able to tell her the below stairs gossip and a few interesting things about or lords and masters.
I had little contact with the family, as I was not a personal maid. Lady Trencham had a personal maid, as did her only daughter Lady Diana, a girl of fifteen with all the airs and graces that comes with her position. On the few occasions that I encountered her, she was aloof and somewhat distant. The only thing that I wished was, that I could wear such wonderful gowns and bonnets that she had; all silks, satins and fine materials. They must have cost a small fortune and I admit to be somewhat envious of her.
Lord Trencham and his son The Hon Phillip had manservants to look after their needs. I had little contact with Lord Trencham, but Phillip was another matter. We seemed to cross paths on a number of occasions and I felt somewhat uncomfortable in his presence.
It was not as if he did anything, but the way he looked at me was not the way a gentleman should look at a female member of staff. I had not forgotten the things that Julia had told me about him and his predilection to young, vulnerable girls and that was worrying.
I tried to avoid him as much as possible and was relieved on the occasions when he went up to London to visit friends.
Jane had misgivings about Lord Phillip too and she was uncomfortable with the way he looked at her, although nothing was said or done.
One night, about three months after Julia had left us, I was not able to sleep, despite working hard for many hours. It did not help that Jane snored heavily and on that particular night, the noise that she was making was too much for me and was enough to wake the dead.
Instead of lying awake and staring at the ceiling, I decided to get up and go to the kitchen to warm some milk. Cook allowed us to do this, as it did no harm in her opinion, as long as we did not take advantage of her good nature.
Everything was quiet as I made my way down the servant’s stairs that led to the kitchen and basement area. I was wearing a long white nightgown, slippers and a wrap. My hair was tied in a sleep plait with ribbons to keep it in place. Despite it being autumn now, it was still quite warm and I did not feel the need or desire to get properly dressed, as at that time of night there was little chance of meeting anyone.
The kitchen was lit by the embers of the fire that glowed in the darkness casting dancing shadows on the walls. The only other lighting was a small oil lamp on the kitchen table.
Fetching a pot, I took a jug of milk from the pantry, which was not fresh but still drinkable, and then poured some into the pot.
I hung the pot over the fire and waited a few minutes for the milk to warm through.
Soon I was sitting at the huge kitchen table and sipping the hot milk.
As I sat, I wondered how Julia was. She had told me in her letters that she was getting better, but there was an undercurrent of sadness in the way she wrote. Julia was always a happy soul and had a positive outlook on life. Her letters lacked such feeling and I was concerned that all was not well at her aunt and uncles house.
I rubbed my belly, as it was aching slightly. It had worried me that I was still getting some pains in that area and then I was reassured by recalling the good doctors words that I was experiencing growing pains and that I should not concern myself.
It was second nature to me now that I dress and act as a girl. My days as George seemed distant in the past. So much had happened since I had agreed to make that fateful decision to be a girl and go into service with my sister at The Manor…
I heard a noise and the sound of a bottle breaking.
The kitchen door flung open at the far end and I caught my breath as I wondered who it could be.
I was soon to find out.
Lurching in came The Hon Phillip Trencham and he was obviously in his cups.
I stood and covered myself as best I could with the thin shawl that I was wearing.
For a moment he did not see me and he was singing quietly some sort of rough song that would make a sailor blush with its profanity.
After a moment, he noticed me and came towards the table.
With trepidation, I stood and curtsied; I now wished to be anywhere but there, in a state of undress, alone in the kitchen with a drunken man, a man who was far my superior in station.
He stood there, a stupid grin on his face, his body swaying slightly. I do not think that I had seen anyone quite so drunk as Master Phillip was at that moment.
He drank deeply from his bottle, belched and then looked at me more keenly.
‘Its young Geogiana, isn’t it?’
‘Yes Sir.’
‘Still up, are you. Couldn’t shleep?’
‘Yes Sir.’
I was edging around the table.
‘If I may Sir, I will go back to bed.’
With some difficulty, he sat down heavily on a chair.
‘Shtay a while. I wish to talk.’
Although I describe his words, his voice was slurred and I found it difficult to understand.
‘I really need to go Sir…’
‘Shtay, I say, damn you.’
He was frightening me now. He had a wild look about him and in my thin nightgown and little else, I felt far from safe.
I stood there shivering, despite the heat being thrown out by the fire, close by.
He looked me up and down as if I was some sort of prize heifer.
‘You’re a pretty little thing Georgiana; nice pert little titties.’
I said nothing. My heart was pounding in my breast and I was scared – very scared.
He stood up, barely able to stay on his feet.
He walked towards me, weaving as he did so. I stepped back and then I found myself up against a cold wall.
‘Please Sir, let me go to my bed.’
‘Why, do you not find me handsome and attractive to you? You must know that you are the sort of girl who should be pleashed to have the attentions of one such as I. I have sheen you looking at me.’
‘I…I don’t understand Sir.’
‘Don’t you indeed. Well perhapsh I should help you to undershtand.’
Belying his drunken state, in seconds he was upon me holding my wrist in a vice like grip.
He held me close up against the wall and kissed me roughly. His breath stank of brandy and his disgusting tongue forced its way through my teeth. The hair on his face felt abrasive up against my soft skin and I was totally repelled by him. Then I felt a hard lump against my belly and an unpleasant wetness…
Suddenly, he pulled away, breathing hard. He had a mad look in his eye as he grabbed at my nightgown, which was violently ripped from me in a moment. He looked at me hungrily as he took in my small breasts and then his eyes traveled down my body. I wanted to scream, but I was struck dumb with sheer terror.
‘Whatsh this?’
He looked puzzled and I swayed and almost swooned.
He was looking at my…my parts.
‘What are you, boy or girl?’
‘G…g…girl, please let me go, you are hurting me!’
He actually laughed!
‘Girl, boy it doesh not matter as I have had both and now I am going to have you. Shay a word and you will regret it.’
Within seconds his breeches were around his ankles and he lurched even closer to me.
I started to scream, but he roughly tried to turn me around and put his hand over my mouth to muffle me as he tried to pin me up against the wall.
I knew then that he was going to abuse me in the basest possible way. His face was cruel and he had spittle coming from the corner of his mouth. His member was large and could feel it hard and wet against my thigh. My hand scrabbled about and came up against something metallic.
Without thought, I grabbed at it and hit Phillip on the head.
He dropped like a stone and hit his head hard on the stone floor. Blood trickled from his temple and I feared that I might have killed him.
Dropping the poker, I sobbed uncontrollably as I gathered my nightgown and tried to place it around me like a sheet, as it was beyond wearing.
Shivering with the shock of what had happened I looked down on him, I could see that he was still breathing and for that I was thankful, as I did not want his death on my conscience despite what he had done to me. He looked faintly ridiculous lying there with his breeches around his ankles and large, flaccid member there for all to see. In his unconscious state, he had soiled himself and he lay in a pool of urine…
I shook my head as the full enormity of what I had done engulfed me. My overriding feeling was of panic now, as I did not know what to do.
Then I decided that I had to get away. My position at The Manor was untenable and if I was charged with assaulting Phillip, I had little doubt who would be believed. The horrendous Bloody Code* mean that even minor offenses such as petty theft could mean a hanging. I had little doubt that on awakening, Phillip would denounce me. In addition, he would say that I assaulted him and I had no doubt that he would question my femininity, leading to accusations that I was working under false pretences and was therefore untrustworthy and a liar.
I felt such a despair that I had ever had in my short eventful life.
For a moment, I pulled myself together and tried to think of the best course of action. I had to leave, and quickly before the house was raised, but I could not just go, I had to defend my actions in the best way possible.
The bleeding in Phillip’s head had stopped and he was still breathing and so I lost no more time, as I was afraid of him waking up and rousing the household.
I went back upstairs to my room. Jane was still asleep; she was a heavy sleeper and I had always had problems waking her in the mornings and so there was little chance of my being disturbed.
I dressed as quickly as I could and put some changes of clothes and personal items, as much as I could comfortably carry, in a laundry bag. I then stole downstairs carrying my damaged nightgown with me.
I was taking a chance that Phillip would not wake for some time, as the combination of the drink and the knock on the head would, I hoped; render him unconscious for some time.
Before leaving, I went into Miss Gibbons’s day room where she had her desk and writing implements.
I sat at her desk and took some paper from a drawer. Then with a quill pen, I wrote the following:
Dear Miss Gibbons,
Forgive my writing to you in this manner, but I do not know what else to do and I fear some reprisals from The Hon Phillip’s family. Late at night, as I could not sleep, I went down to the kitchen. I was drinking some warm milk when Master Phillip came in. I regret to say that he was the worse for drink and he was aggressive in his manner. He came over to me and ripped my nightgown off my body and attempted to rape me.
To defend myself, my hand came upon a poker and I hit him with it. He fell down and hit his head. He still breathed; in fact he was snoring when I left him. I did not think that he was too badly hurt, although he appeared unconscious.
I was concerned that I would not be believed and so decided that I would leave but I decided that it would only be right that I explain the true facts to you.
I leave my torn and stained nightgown, where you can see the evidence of the assault and attempted rape.
I swear by almighty God that what I have said is true and I leave it to you to decide what should be done.
Yours respectfully,
Georgiana Digby
The letter was tear stained but I could not help that. The nightgown was at least some evidence of what had been done to me. I knew all about men’s emissions. I learnt everything I need and wanted to know from my Mama. I often helped her with changing sheets and queried the strange stain on one of them. It appeared that some young men have dreams at night that resulted in such staining. I had wondered why it had not happened to me…
I left the letter and nightgown on her desk and then left her room. As a final act, I went back into the kitchen and looked at the prone body of Phillip. He was asleep and still snoring. Judging by the state of him. I would not have been surprised if he would not awaken for several hours, by which time I would hopefully be far away.
Perhaps I should have stayed and sought help, but I was not in my right mind and in any case I strongly believed that The Hon Phillips version of the events would have been taken as truth, rather than mine and that my very life would be in jeopardy.
I stole out of the house through the kitchen door and walked down the long drive of The Manor, a place I where had hoped would be my home for the foreseeable future. That future was now wrecked and in ruins.
It was a fine, dry night and the stars filled the heavens. On any other occasion, I would have enjoyed walking through this quiet place, with only the sounds of the wildlife to keep me company. But this was no ordinary time for me, as I had no home, job or future as far as I could see.
What I would do now, I did not know.
I was in despair.
To Be Continued?
* The Bloody code, explanation: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloody_Code
Please leave comments and kudos, if you have time...thanks!
* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Georgiana looks like this.
Sorry about the delay in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more in the future.
Duality~Final Chapter
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I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.
There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.
“I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Dear reader, there are parts of this chapter that may shock those of a delicate nature as there is some discussion of female anatomy. Please forgive me, as it is necessary for the continuation of my strange story.
Previously …
The letter was tear stained but I could not help that. The nightgown was at least some evidence of what had been done to me.
I knew all about men’s emissions. I learnt everything I need and wanted to know from my Mama. I often helped her with changing sheets and queried the strange stain on one of them. It appeared that some young men have dreams at night that resulted in such staining. I had wondered why it had not happened to me…
I left the letter and nightgown on her desk and then left her room. As a final act, I went back into the kitchen and looked at the prone body of Phillip. He was asleep and still snoring. Judging by the state of him. I would not have been surprised if he would not awaken for several hours, by which time I would hopefully be far away.
Perhaps I should have stayed and sought help, but I was not in my right mind and in any case I strongly believed that The Hon Phillips version of the events would have been taken as truth, rather than mine and that my very life would be in jeopardy.
I stole out of the house through the kitchen door and walked down the long drive of The Manor, a place I where had hoped would be my home for the foreseeable future. That future was now wrecked and in ruins.
It was a fine, dry night and the stars filled the heavens. On any other occasion, I would have enjoyed walking through this quiet place, with only the sounds of the wildlife to keep me company. But this was no ordinary time for me, as I had no home, job or future as far as I could see.
What I would do now, I did not know.
I was in despair.
And now the story continues…
It was a clear night and somewhat chilly, as is often the case after a fine day. I was lucky in as much as there was a full moon that helped light my way as I steeled away from The Manor, my home for some months.
I had little idea as to where I would go. I did not know the area well as I had only left the confines of The Manor and grounds on but a few occasions, such as visiting the church on Sundays and delivering a letter to the post in Lambton. I had been told that The Manor was close to many places such as Bakewell, Chatsworth, Matlock, Dove Dale, and the Peak, but my duties as a maid forbad any time off to visit such places.
Thinking that I would not get very far before the Honourable Lord Phillip was either found or had recovered his senses, I wasted little time in walking as fast as my skirts would allow.
Being on the outskirts of The Peak, I knew that I had to stay on the lanes and paths that were well used. I did not want to find myself in the wild yet beautiful countryside where I could easily loose myself and I would be in a worse position than I was at present. I therefor made my way towards Lambton.
I was wary of being out at night by myself. I did not wish to meet anyone at that late hour, in the dark, feeling that no good would come of it. Thoughts of pickpockets, highwaymen and other undesirables were uppermost in my thoughts as I walked along. Mind you there were also wild animals such as foxes and loose wild dogs, known to be in the area and that frightened me as much as anything else.
As I walked, my thoughts turned to the events of the previous few hours. I had little hope of ever returning to The Manor; indeed, I believed if I were caught I would surely hang. I knew my innocence, but I had little to support of that other than my word on it and the evidence of my torn and soiled nightgown.
What chance had I when my accuser would be a titled member of a powerful family?
I wished that I could have the council of my dear sister Julia. She would have known what to do. Had I, by running away, sealed my guilt? Should I have stayed and faced the consequences and plead my innocence?
Phillip had seen my body and knew that I at least looked slightly like a boy. I had little doubt that he would tell anyone who would listen that I was a fraud and a liar and that would as much as anything seal my fate and make me look guilty in the eyes of the law.
I shook my head, tears falling unbidden down my cheeks. This was no good. I was trying to make sense out of a situation that was not of my making. I hated Phillip then as much as I could hate anyone. How could he get away with being such a beast? He had done it before and no doubt he would do it again to some poor innocent creature such as myself. It is truly a man’s world and they held all the cards.
I was beyond outside help now. I would have to do the best that I could to disappear from view and await any developments. How I would do this. I had no idea, but I would try my hardest to eventually be seen as the innocent party and at least regain some satisfaction that I was not such a bad person after all.
~*~
I seemed to walk for miles, although it probably wasn’t as far as I thought. I met nobody and for that I was thankful. I did get a fright when a bat flew low over me and actually brushed up against my bonnet, leaving me hysterics for some moments before I could collect and gather myself and eventually continue on my way.
Eventually I arrived at the small town of Lambton. All was quiet, which was good as the last thing I wanted was to be discovered or questioned about what business I had abroad at such a time.
As a boy I would not be questioned, but a girl should not be out at that time and certainly not unaccompanied.
On the other side of Lambton, I stopped and went off the road. Finding an uprooted tree, I sat down upon it and wondered, not for the first time, what I would do. Taking off my bonnet, I wiped the perspiration from my brow.
To be honest, as I had walked, I was feeling increasingly unwell. My belly was sore and I felt slightly sick and lightheaded. I was strangely sleepy and lethargic and I put this down to the all the stresses of the previous hours.
I tried to think of what I should now do. I had no real plans, the only one being getting as far away from The Manor as possible. Now I had to decide what to do. I could not wander the countryside aimlessly. I had some money, the last of the share of what my mother had given us and I also had a little from my wages. Not enough to get too far, but I felt that it would suffice to at least get me away from Derbyshire. Perhaps I could find a position at another house, far away from Lambton?
A major problem was that I had no references and that would go against me, I was sure. Sighing, I realised that I could not tarry any longer. I had to be away. My enforced rest had made me feel perhaps a little better.
Time was of the essence, as I feared deeply that the men of The Manor would try to hunt for me when Phillip was found and my letter to the housekeeper was read.
I placed my bonnet over my rather damp hair and tied the ribbon securely under my chin. It was somewhat windy and the last thing I wanted was for it to fly off. Taking a deep breath, I walked on down the road. I had decided to try to meet the early post chase at the Cross Inn, one of the places where we had gone through on our journey home to my mother’s funeral. I was hopeful that there would be space for me at the early hour of six in the morning.
The walk to the inn was about three miles from Lambton and with a fairly firm step, I went as fast as I could, not because I would be late for the carriage, but because I did not want to be on the road for long and risk getting caught.
I walked along for about ten minutes, getting slower and slower. Once again, I was feeling a little sick and light headed. The pain in my belly was growing somewhat and I wondered if I had eaten something that had disagreed with me, some hours before.
I came to some woods and to my left was a path, leading through the woods. I realised that I was not well enough to walk any further for the moment and I therefor decided that I would find somewhere to rest out of the way of the road and then, when I felt a little better, I could continue my journey.
Going down the path, I could just see that it was not well used and in places, it had become overgrown. This suited my purposes and I continued on as far as I could away from the road. Suddenly, a fox crossed my path. It stopped, looked at me for a moment and then was gone, like a silent phantom.
I should have been fearful of the fox, as I knew that there was a possibility that I might get bitten, but I was beyond caring by now and I just wanted to stop and go to sleep. However, something kept me going until I could go on no longer.
I stumbled along for a few more steps and then stopped, swaying from side to side. My belly was on fire and as I knelt down on the rough ground, I was violently sick. Then a blackness came over me and I knew no more.
~*~
I had no idea how long I was unconscious but I was aware of sunlight on my face as it filtered through the trees. Sitting up, I saw that I was on the path still and my dress was filthy and stained and smelt very unpleasant. The pain in my belly was still there, but was now no more than a niggling ache.
The early morning birds’ chorus was in full voice and it looked like it was going to be a fine day. Suddenly, I remembered what had happened the previous night and my flight from The Manor. My heart felt heavy at all that had happened and I realised with horror that the post chase had probably gone by now.
Wearily, I managed somehow to get to my feet. Standing there, swaying slightly, I had no idea as to what to do. My mind felt as if it was full of wool and I had a little difficulty in trying to concentrate on what I should do. I was somewhat thirsty and I could hear the sound of running water coming from the left. I followed the sound and then, just a little way from the path where I had been standing, behind some tall bushes, was, I believed, a stream.
Forcing my way through a gap in the bushes, I sank to my knees and cupped some water into my hands and drank deeply. The water tasted wonderfully clean and after a few moments, I felt refreshed.
After quenching my thirst, my head cleared somewhat and with fumbling fingers, I undid the ribbon and took off my bonnet. I was then able to wash my face in the cool water.
It was nice there by the stream, in the little clearing. The trees were thinner than the surrounding wood and a lot of the sunlight was able to come through, painting the scene with light and picking out lovely colours of yellow, blue and pink of the wild flowers dotted about the place.
It was then that I realised that I had left my laundry bag with my clothes on the path and I went to fetch it, as I did not want it discovered and I wished to change out of my soiled clothes and into something a little cleaner.
The bag was where I had left it the previous night and in moments I was back by the side of the stream.
I removed my soiled dress and petticoat and while in a state of undress, I went over to a tree, squatted and relieved myself.
It was painful to do this and glancing down, I noticed that my piss looked very red and wondered why that would be. Then, when I had finished I glanced over to my discarded petticoat and I noticed a small patch of dried blood. I did not remember cutting myself and after looking at myself I saw no sign of a cut, but did see a trickle of dried blood on the inside of my leg.
This was strange. Where was all the blood coming from and did it have anything to do with my feeling unwell? I did not think that Phillip did anything to me that could warrant an internal injury; although no doubt, given the chance he would have harmed me if he could.
I could do nothing about the problem now and I quickly dressed in the spare dress and petticoat that I had in my bag. Once dressed, I put my soiled garments in my bag and then sat for a moment to gather my thoughts.
Although I had thought that I was feeling better now, just redressing seemed to tire me out and I wondered whether I would be well enough to continue my journey. Luckily, I was not feeling very hungry, so I did not feel the need to find food.
Even though I had only just awakened, I felt the need for sleep once more and I lay down with my head on my bag. Before I knew it, I was asleep.
It was the sound of splashing water that awakened me and then I sat up suddenly at the sound of a voice. Looking around with alarm, I could see the shape of a man on a horse. I felt disoriented and my head spun.
‘Oh Lord, I have been found,’ I cried out.
The bright light of the morning was too much for me and I closed my eyes once more.
I had been caught and I would be dragged back to The Manor.
Seconds later I could feel his presence by my side.
‘Are you unwell?’
‘I…I.’
Words failed me.
‘Bingley, go fetch some men and a stretcher then call for the doctor.’
‘Of course Darcy, I will be as quick as I can.’
The Man called Darcy held me against his shoulder and after a moment I felt slightly better.
‘I have seen you before somewhere, I think, but how came you here, Miss?’ he asked.
‘I…I had to get away.’
‘Away from who or what?’
‘Phillip.’
‘Phillip?’
‘The Honourable Lord Phillip at The Manor. He tried to…to…’
I broke down in tears and he held me closer.
I was asked other questions but other than giving my name, I was incoherent and inconsolable.
I had little recollection of the next few hours, as I believe that I once again fainted. I learnt later that some men were fetched and I was carried away to the great house known as Pemberley in whose grounds I had wondered into.
When I awoke, it was evening time. I was in bed, a bed the like of which I had never slept in. My hair was tied to the side and in ribbons and I was wearing a clean white, very fine nightgown with lace edging on the sleeves and neck.
The room was large, larger even than the bedrooms at The Manor and it was expensively decorated, with portraits on the walls and fine curtains at the windows.
In the large fireplace, logs crackled and gave off a glow that warmed the room and made it somehow rather cosy.
By the fire, a woman sat reading a book.
I coughed and that hurt a bit as my belly was still feeling somewhat tender and my head, the same.
She looked up at me, put her book down and then came over to me.
‘You are awake, I see Miss.’
‘Where am I?’
‘Pemberley, in one of the guest rooms.’
‘Pemberley?’
‘Yes; the master brought you back from the woods, you were unwell. I am the housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds.’
I felt a dread in my breast.
‘Am I to be sent back to The Manor?’
‘No Miss, you shall not. Mr Darcy wishes to explain matters to you. But I can say without fear of contradiction, that you shall never have to go back to that place if you do not wish to.’
‘But I injured The Honourable Phillip.’
‘No more than he deserved.’
‘You know of him?’
‘The whole county knows of him. He has been sent away in disgrace. Are you well enough to know of the details or would you like to rest?’
‘May I have some water?’
‘Yes Miss.’
She went over to a carafe and poured some water into a glass and then fetched it back to me.
After sipping some water, my throat felt less dry and I was able to continue this strange discussion with Mrs Reynolds.
‘Better Miss?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Good. Well, the master will want to tell you certain things, but for now I can tell you this. The Honourable Lord Philip was found by one of the scullery maids the morning after his attack on you. The housekeeper, Mrs Gibbons was called for and then the butler. Your letter and nightgown was found and read. Phillip was still unconscious and a doctor was called. It appears that the wound that you inflicted on Philip was superficial and it was mainly the fact that he had consumed copious amounts of drink that he was in the state that he was.
‘Lord Trencham was called in and it appears that his son has, in the past, done similar things to what he did to you. Eventually, Phillip was awakened by the judicious use of a jug of cold water. He professed his innocence, saying that you egged him on, but on production of your soiled and torn nightdress, he admitted only that he could not recollect much of the night before, except that he thought that you was a boy not a girl.
‘Evidently he was ridiculed for saying this, as everyone who knew you was certain that you were a girl and not some boy in disguise. I will not say more on the matter except that you were believed and not him. A commission has been purchased for him in one of the northern regiments and he is not expected to be welcomed back at The Manor for some time to come. Now I can say no more on the subject except that you are welcome to return to The Manor if you wish. However, my master Mister Darcy will want to see you when you feel able and also the doctor from London will be here shortly to explain matters appertaining to your health. I know that you have questions Miss, but please be patient. You will know all very soon and I promise that you will be satisfied with what you hear.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Seven o’clock.’
‘So I have lain here all day?’
‘You have lain there for four days, Miss.’
‘Four days! I had not thought…’
‘It is true Miss, you have been asleep for four days.’
‘I…I must have been very unwell then. But please call me Georgiana, if you will. It does not seem right that you call me Miss.’
She looked at me and smiled.
‘It would be inappropriate and not be correct for me to call you anything other than Miss for the moment. However, all will be explained in the fullness of time. Are you hungry?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Well you must get you appetite back soon; there is nothing of you. I will bring the doctor up when he comes and then the master will want to talk to you.’
‘Is he angry with me?’
‘Whatever for? No he is not angry, he is just anxious about you. Now, rest easy Miss. If you need anything, just pull the cord.’
She smiled and left me to my solitude. I had much to think about, with no answers to the questions that were whirling around in my head.
I felt an itch down below, between my legs. When I felt down, I noticed that the area was covered in some sort of padding. I wondered if they had found the cut that had caused my bleeding but I was so tired I just needed to sleep again, although questions were going around in my head that made it difficult to relax.
~*~
I must have slept as I only woke up at the touch on my arm. Looking up, I saw a man before me, somewhat stout, almost bald and with a smile on his face.
‘Forgive me for awakening you. I am Doctor Fisher, Mr Darcy asked me to have a look at you. How are you feeling?’
‘Tired and my belly aches a little.’
‘Ah yes; tell me have you ever had a doctor examine you?’
‘Yes, just a little while ago after going to my mothers funeral.’
‘You mean step mother?’
‘Yes,’ I answered, wondering how he knew that.
‘I am sorry for your loss. What did you see the doctor for, was it the strange pains that you were having?’
‘Yes and the fact that I was growing as a girl when I had boy parts.’
‘I was called up from Bart’s by Mr Darcy, that is a large hospital in London. I specialise in certain conditions and have had some experience of your problem. I took the liberty of examining you after some concerns were raised by Mr Darcy and in particular Mrs Reynolds who undressed you and saw what state you were in. The doctor that you saw, did he give you a diagnosis?'
‘Yes, he said that he was no expert but he thought that I appeared to be more girl than boy and in his opinion, I should have been called as a boy when I was born. He also said that the pains that I was having were nothing more than growing pains.'
Doctor Fisher sighed.
‘I regret that the good doctor was somewhat mistaken regarding the pains, although, to be fair he was close to the truth in other things. There are some people who are considered hermaphrodite; do you know what that is?’
‘No Sir, but is it something to do with what the other doctor said to me?’
‘Yes, in part. This is when someone is born with male and female parts. You are not what I would consider a true hermaphrodite because you are predominately female, but some of your important parts were covered over and not visible and a mistake was made.
‘When a baby is born and the sex of that child is ambiguous, that is to say, unclear, it is normally up to the midwife or doctor to decide whether the child is a boy or a girl. A surprising number of babies are born with abnormalities and mistakes are made. In many cases, nothing needs to be done. In a few instances, I regret to say, death occurs from unforeseen complications. When we can, we need to do things that help relieve symptoms such as the ones you have been experiencing. You have noticed some bandages and padding down below?’
‘Yes Doctor.’
‘Well the science is not exact in these cases and we are far from perfect medically speaking, but it was clear that you were bleeding from inside and some of the blood was evacuating from the penis.’
He hesitated and then continued.
‘I do not like to speak of such matters to a girl of tender years, but it is necessary for you to know what changes I have been able to do to help you. I speak to you as a medical man would to my patient and as such, social niceties have to be put aside for a moment and things of a delicate and personal nature must be discussed. Do you understand?’
I thought him a little pompous, sanctimonious and condescending and wondered if he would speak like this to a boy, but that was but a passing thought.
‘Please continue Sir.’
He inclined his head.
‘On examination of the area in question, it was evident, that some skin was covering an opening that, I believed was probably your vagina.’
‘Vagina?’
‘Yes, it is the opening that all normal girls have. You are perhaps unaware of certain female parts?’
I blushed.
‘I know little sir. I have, if course, seen farm animals and how they evidently make babies; although I find it hard to believe that any animal parts are similar to ours, but like farm animals, women become pregnant and give birth. My sister has told me certain things that she learned from my mother, such as the fact that girls do not have a erm, penis, and it is obvious that women have erm, bosoms, indeed, I believe that I have erm, certain, erm.’
I waved vaguely at my chest and then hesitantly continued.
‘My sister has seen my male member and she has said that it was unlike any other she had seen; I believe she came across one of the brothers when in a state of undress…’
I once again felt myself blush, as I did not really feel very comfortable talking of such delicate matters.
‘Yes well, the penis you thought that you had is in fact more a clitoris, which only women have, an enlarged one, but definitely a clitoris. As you were unconscious at the time and I felt the your health was in danger, I decide to operate on you to see what lay beneath the skin. As I suspected, it was a virginal canal. I also suspect that you have the reproductive organs of a female, hence the bleeding which was I believe, a monthly menses. Luckily you are young and it appears that the bleeding was light otherwise you may have been in graver danger.’
‘So the other doctor was right, I am more of a girl than a boy?’
‘Yes, indeed I would say that; definitely a girl. Whether you can have children is another matter as there is no way of knowing that and it is Gods hands as to whether you will be blessed. I must now inspect my work. Forgive me, my dear as it needs to be done.’
I was somewhat dumfounded that it was possible that I could actually have children, God willing. For that I would have to marry a man and I was not sure if I wanted to do that. Phillips attempts to rape me had put me off men for life, but perhaps, with time, I would get over the pain and suffering that man had caused me. Then there was the fact that I did not know if I would be attracted to any man…
I winced as a small stab of pain came from between my legs and I wondered what the doctor was doing down there and then, on reflection, I was not sure that I wanted to know.
I tried to take my mind off his examination of me, although it was rather uncomfortable. Thankfully, it was soon over and the bed covers were once again put over me.
‘The wounds look a little sore, but you should be able to use the toilet carefully. Once the swelling dies down, I think that you will look almost like a normal girl. Please be sure to wipe yourself clean with a clean damp cloth after urinating, to avoid the possibility of soreness. I understand that one of the servants with experience of looking after the sick will be looking after you and tend to your needs. You are to have complete bed rest until I see you again. I will visit in one week’s time to see your progress.’
‘Thank you for helping me.’
‘I am well paid for my services, but I have to say that it is a real pleasure to help a young lady like yourself,’ he smiled.
~*~
With that he left me and a woman came in and then over to my bed. She was quite old and matronly but she looked nice enough and she was smiling.
‘Hello Miss Georgiana, I am Branson, I was nanny to Mr Darcy and several other members of the family. I have come to look after you.’
‘Thank you Miss Branson.’
‘Just Branson Miss. Now the doctor has told me of your medical problems and I will be here to help you and change your dressings when needed. You are to only get up to use the chamber pot or bourdaloue as any exertions on your part might make you bleed, something that the doctor does not wish to happen.’
‘Erm, I wish to go now?’
I had had an urge to urinate for some time, but I had tried to avoid any embarrassment.
‘Very well, let me help you.’
‘I am sure that I can manage.’
‘I think not Miss. It would be more than my life is worth if any harm comes to you.’
She helped me off with the covers and I stood up…and then nearly fell, as I was so weak.
‘Here, let me help you.’
It was with embarrassment that she lifted up my nightgown, took away the padding which had been attached to some sort of belt and then, picking up an ornate bourdaloue from beneath the bed, she placed it where needed. The pad was stained with dry blood, I noticed as she placed it in a bucket by the wall. A few moments later, although could see nothing under the voluminous white garment, I could hear and feel myself let go. There was a burning feeling that was somewhat unpleasant, but the relief of pressure was nice!
When I had finished, I could see that the contents of the pot were rather red in colour.
‘No need to worry Miss, the doctor said that you should expect a little blood for a while. Now let me dry you.’
‘I can…’
‘No Miss, let me do it, if you are too rough then the scabs will bleed.’
A few moments later, I felt better as a clean pad had been placed upon me and I was safely back in bed.
Just that simple action of going to the toilet had been enough to tire me somewhat and I was left to rest. I was told that a simple supper would be brought up for me in about an hour’s time.
I lay there looking at the ceiling, trying to digest what had happened to me and wondering just who this Mister Darcy was and what interest that he had in me, a poor runaway servant girl?
~*~
I awoke to the sound of crockery. Benson had brought in a tray.
‘Sorry to wake you Miss, but Mrs Reynolds said that I must get you to eat. There is nothing of you and you are to eat it all up, doctors orders.’
She helped me to sit up and then a tray was put upon my lap.
‘Please pull the cord what you have finished Miss.’
I looked at the plate. There was some thick soup, almost a broth, and some bread. I had not realised I was so hungry until the smell of the food awakened my senses. I consumed the soup with something like gusto, as it appeared that I had not eaten in some days. There was also some watered down port wine and I drank it with relish, although in my weakened state, it made me feel almost immediately slightly lightheaded.
After completing my repast, I pulled the cord by the bed and almost immediately, Benson came in.
‘Good, you have eaten it all; your cheeks look a bit rosier if I might make bold to say. Mr Darcy has asked if you feel well enough to speak with him?’
‘Of course, I would like to thank him for his charity and kindness.’
“I will let him know directly, Miss, but first we must clean you up.’
I was assisted out of bed and asked to sit on a chair by the fire.
Benson left the room for a moment and then came back with a jug of hot water.
‘You should really have a bath, like the master has, but with your wounds it will have to wait. I will help clean you as best I can and then you will feel better for it.’
She poured the water into a basin and then helped me to remove my rather grubby nightgown. I was a little embarrassed to be virtually naked but Benson did not seem all that embarrassed and so I relaxed, just a little.
‘I can wash myself,’ I said.
‘No Miss, not in your condition and I will be able to reach parts that would be difficult for you.’
I looked down at my body while Benson washed my back with soft cloths. My breasts were growing, if anything, larger than when I last saw them. They were no longer just nubs, but small and definite breasts, which itched slightly. Down below, I could see the belt with the wide pad attached that covered my groin and bottom. It looked strange, but no stranger than other things that were going on around me at present.
I wondered if I was dreaming. Perhaps I was still down by the stream, asleep…
Then Benson came around to the front and washed my face and the rest of my exposed body. This was no dream, this was reality and I started shivering from the cold, even though the fire was lit and I was standing next to it.
‘Not long now, Miss,’ said Benson kindly.
She wiped me dry with some towels and slipped a clean nightgown over my head. Then she sat me down, untied the ribbons in my hair, brushed it and then expertly tied my hair in a beribboned night plat. Finally she helped me back to bed.
‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘that makes me feel much better.’
‘It’s a pleasure Miss Georgiana.’ She replied with a genuine smile.
I did so wish that people would call me by my Christian name and not Miss. I was but a mere servant girl. Even using my surname would seem more correct than Miss. I sighed, knowing that I would not get my way no matter how much I asked.
‘I will inform Mr Darcy that you are now able to see him.’
As I lay there waiting to see the mysterious Mister Darcy, I wondered what he was like. My thoughts on men at that time were far from good, after the experience of my encounter with The Hon Lord Phillip. But I was sure that he was nothing like that odious man and he did rescue me and brought me to his lovely house.
There was a knock on the door.
‘C…come in.’
The door opened and then I saw him clearly for the first time.
It was the stranger who helped carry my mothers’ coffin!
~*~
He came over, all smiles.
‘How are you Georgiana?’
‘Well, thank you Sir; forgive me, but are you a member of my mothers’ family that I do not know of? I saw you carry the coffin and later I saw you on the road.’
‘No, not your mothers family, who are, I believe, something like step relations to you.’
‘I did not realise that it was you when you rescued me; I regret, I was not myself.’
‘The doctor explained to me the nature of your ailments. I insisted on knowing. You are still but a child and I felt that you were in need of protection and in any case, I had an interest in his answer, above and beyond mere curiosity and concern for a fellow being.’
Why Sir?’
‘I…I know something of your history.’
‘My history?’
‘Yes; if you are well enough, I need to tell you of certain facts. Are you up to this or would you prefer that I come `and see you tomorrow.’
‘Oh, dear Sir I cannot wait a moment longer, please tell me what you will and then perhaps I might sleep the easier.’
‘May I sit?’
‘Please do Sir.’
He drew a chair close to the bed and sat down. I could see that there was some trouble displayed on his countenance but there was also a firm strength in his manner and deportment that I could only admire.
‘I have a tale to tell, please; I beg do not interrupt until I have finished. Before I begin do you need refreshment?’
‘No Sir.’
‘Very well. I have to tell you a little of my family history. My father was George Darcy and no better man walked the earth. My mother was Lady Ann Darcy, a pretty woman and much loved by my father and myself. However she was not strong physically or mentally and she spent some time away from us, recovering from one episode or another. She had miscarried twice and she was, by all accounts at very low ebb.
‘I was but nine year’s old when things came to a head. My mother disappeared and we had no knowledge of the reason. She was searched for high and low but she was not found.
‘Then several months later she came home and refused to tell anyone where she had been or what she had been doing. I regret that she was still not well in her head and she had flights of fancy when she was gay and happy and days when she raged against the world.
‘She was not a strong woman and the years had not been kind to her as she looked much older than she actually was. One night she left her bedroom in the dead of night and walked out into a raging storm. She was found the following day, quite dead.’
Mr Darcy stopped for a moment almost overcome with emotion but then he seemed to gather himself, smiled at me and then continued.
‘After my mother died we tried to pick up the threads of our lives and I grew even closer to my father, although I knew that he missed her dreadfully, as I did. Five years after my mother died, my father followed and I then took over as master of the house. I have tried to be a fair and kind employer and I think that the workers on the estate are happy enough. For myself, I am somewhat shy and awkward when meeting people other than my immediate circle and I perhaps give the appearance of being aloof and disagreeable. I abhor any falsehood or putting on airs and graces and I fear that I may show my contempt for such actions in my responses. This is perhaps my fault and perhaps I should not expect others to act as I do. I acknowledge it without further comment other than it is for others to judge whether I am a good or bad person.’
He looked slightly fierce as he said that and I was glad that I was not the object of his wrath. He looked at me and smiled, his features relaxing somewhat.
‘Forgive me; I have no wish to concern you with my faults, perceived or true. But enough about me. About a year ago, I found a copy of a letter from my mother, a rough draft if you like, to a Mrs Harriet Digby and in it she enquired about a boy called George. It was a somewhat jumbled letter and it made little sense. I just thought that it referred to a child of someone she was acquainted with and was just asking after the boy’s health.
‘Then I found a few other letters, once again mentioning this child George. I was intrigued enough to make enquiries about this Mrs Harriet Digby and I eventually traced her to a forge in Market Lowerbury in the county of Leicestershire.
‘On visiting her, I found her alone in the house and she welcomed me. After making a few pleasantries, I showed the copies of my mothers’ letters and informed her of my mothers’ death, a fact that she was not aware of. It appears that she had made certain solemn promises to my mother and she was very reluctant to divulge any information that had been given to her in confidence. Is all this clear to you so far Georgiana?’
I nodded, wondering what he had to say to me.
‘I asked why my mother would have any interest in George. I explained that my mother was unwell for many years and the fact that she had lost two children by miscarriage. This had made matters worse for her and that she was subject to fits of depression that finally led to her walking out in a storm and dying of exposure.
‘Mrs Digby looked up at me sharply and then asked about my father and whether he was still a violent man. This took me aback as my father was the gentlest of men and I told her so and also informed her that he too had passed away. She looked alarmed and upset at what I had to say. For some minutes she walked about the room in an agitated way and then sat down once again. I remember almost word for word what she then said to me.
Mrs Digby’s account
‘Sir, I feel that must tell you things that I promised not to tell a living soul except my husband who had to know the particulars. Please do not judge me badly as I agreed to all this with honourable intentions. One evening some years ago, my husband was called out to a pony and trap that had lost its wheel. There was a woman in the trap without any companion and she was discommoded and so my husband brought her back to the house as it was very late she was in some discomfort.’
‘Discomfort?’
‘She was heavy with child.’
‘My God!’
‘I see that you have a notion of what I am saying. I put her to bed directly and because of her condition, I called old Mrs Becket from the village, her being the one person in the village that helped with the berthing’s. My children were away at the time visiting their grandparents, my mother and father that is, and that was a blessing, as I did not want them to be around during that rather eventful time.
‘The birth was a difficult one and the labour lasted several hours. At one time when Mrs Becket was asleep in the kitchen downstairs I was able to ask why she had been travelling in such a manner in her condition without the support of any other person. She told me her story. She said that she had a violent husband and that she feared for her life. She had run away because she feared for her safety and that of her unborn child.
‘I asked if she had any relatives or friends that could help her and she said that had no one. The birth when it came was a painful one, but the child appeared to be healthy and mother and child survived. Strangely, your mother did not take to the child and did not even like to look at him. We had to use a wet nurse from the village, giving the excuse that the mother was too dry to feed the boy herself.
‘About four days after the birth, I went into her room to find the baby crying and your mother gone. A letter was on the pillow and it said simply that she did not want the child to grow up without a proper family and she beseeched me to take him and treat him as my own. She promised to write but told me not to tell anyone of the circumstances regarding the child and above all, not to try to contact her family because she said the child would be in grave danger if this were done. She gave the impression that your father was a dangerous and vindictive man who would harm the child if he was found.’
‘And you believed this madam?’ I asked.
‘Indeed I do. Your mother painted a picture of someone who beats the servants and treated his wife cruelly and with contempt. If you had heard her Sir, you would have believed her in my position. So I took George into the family and treated him as one of my own.’
The end of Mrs Digby’s account
With that Mr Darcy looked at me and said, ‘Mrs Digby was a kindly woman and I liked her. I believed her story, as I knew that my mother was someone who occasionally lived in a world of her own. My only wish was that I could have at least seen you, but you were away on an errand.’
‘So I am your s…s…sister?’
He nodded.
‘Indeed you are dear Georgiana. To find you in my woods, was divine intervention.’
‘I do not know what to say. I am… I am.’
With that I burst into tears and the person that I now knew to be my brother, came close and hugged me to him.
He said some words of comfort, but to this day, I cannot recall them. Eventually, I calmed down, composed myself and told him about what I had been told of my circumstances.
‘I have never heard this story Sir. I thought that my parents and died from the consumption and I had been taken in as an act of kindness. I was told that my parents were genteel, but I could no more information from either my mother or father. My siblings knew nothing about it either and just accepted me as one of the family, for which I was truly thankful. But why did you leave me with the Digby’s when you knew that I was your sister?’
‘That was difficult. I could have been selfish and taken you away, but I was assured that you were happy with your family and to take you away and put you in a place far different from the circumstances that you had experienced the whole of your life would be unkind. So both Mrs Digby and myself decided to let things rest as they were. If there was any situation where you were in need, then she would contact me and so I let it rest there. I received reports from your mother on an irregular basis about how things were going for you and I was assured of your happiness. Many times I wanted to see you, but I knew that it would be difficult without explaining myself.’
‘I wish I had known Sir.’ I said.
He smiled.
‘I think that it is right and proper that you call me Fitzwilliam or perhaps Brother when you are displeased with me.’
When he smiled, it was nice and it made his face so much pleasanter.
‘So, erm Fitzwilliam, how came you to know of my situation?’
When I went to your mothers funeral, I looked for you and made discrete enquiries. I found out that you were unwell. I was not aware that you were now Georgiana and not George. I also found out that Lord Trencham employed you but I had no idea that you were a maid. I thought deeply about whether it was right and proper for you to be employed thus and I made it my business to find out if you were happy. I passed you on the lane away from the church. That was you wasn’t it?’
‘Yes Si…I mean Fitzwilliam.’
‘I thought so. It was something about your face, although I only saw it fleetingly and you were wearing a large bonnet. I take it that you were paying your respects to your and you wished to remain incognito?’
I nodded.
‘Yes, that makes more sense of things. Anyway when I arrived home to Pemberton, I had a letter waiting for me, it was from your mother. It had taken some time to get to me and had been written some weeks before your mother passed away. In it she told me of your subterfuge in taking employment as a girl and the reasons why this had been done. I was very concerned at receiving that information, as I had lately heard rumours of an alarming nature involving Lord Phillip and his rather dubious nature.’
‘He is a hateful man,’ I said with tears once more flowing down my cheeks.
Fitzwilliam held my hand.
‘He is lucky that he is no longer in the county, as I would have called him out, if he was available. If I see him, I will not be responsible for my actions, at the very least, I will horsewhip him and if he is stupid enough to stand up for a duel, I know what the outcome shall be.’
‘Oh, Fitzwilliam, please do not fight him. I would hate to lose you…’
‘You have no fear of that. And anyway, now that I have found you, I will never let you go.’
~*~
It was two weeks before I was allowed out of bed. My strength grew daily and this was, in a large part, helped by the love of my brother and the respect and obvious affection that I received from all the staff, despite the fact that I was a relative stranger. After the first week, the doctor returned and after examining me, declared that he was happy with my progress and unless anything untoward happened all would be well with me. I had my own maid in additional to Benson. It was strange to me, as one who was more used to giving service rather than receiving it, to be looked after and my every whim catered for. Not that I had many whims, my days below stairs had taught me not to abuse my now privileged position.
As soon as I felt well enough, I wrote to my dear sister Julia and told her of my good fortune. I eagerly awaited a reply as to how things were going with her. I worried about her, as I believed that she was not happy with her aunt and uncle and I was also concerned for her health, none to strong after the illness that nearly took her away from us.
On the last day but one of my confinement to my bed, I had a visitor. Fitzwilliam had gone hunting with his friends, one of them in particular was very nice, a Mr Charles Bingly.
I was reading a book and must admit that it was somewhat dull and I was beginning to feel sleepy when Caroline, my maid came in and announced a visitor.
‘Sorry to disturb Miss Georgiana but Lady Catherine de Bourgh wishes to see you.’
I sat up straighter in bed. I had been expecting a visit from her and knew her now as my aunt. Fitzwilliam did not have much time for her, considering her to be overbearing and self-opinionating.
Without further notice, the lady in question entered the room, sweeping aside poor Caroline, who left the room with an apologetic look on her face.
‘There you are then. You are Georgiana, I see. Fitzwilliam told me about you of course and I have been waiting for you to visit me but it appears that you have been indisposed. What is wrong with you?’
‘I have been unwell Ma’am.’
‘That is obvious. You shall call me Aunt, but what is wrong with you, I say?’
‘I am much better thank you Ma…I mean Aunt; the doctor needed to perform an operation to clear a blockage…’
‘Most distasteful, I need not know any more. I of course suffer from ill health and it is a marvel that I am alive today.
Even my daughter is of delicate health and she needs the constant attention of the physicians. Do you play the pianoforte?’
‘No, I regret…’ I replied, wondering at the switch in the conversation.
‘No girl of breeding should not be able to play the pianoforte. I understand that you were brought up, in the country following my sisters rather unfortunate illness.’
‘Yes Aunt.’
I did not know what she had been told and I did not wish her to know anything that wasn’t strictly necessary. I did so wish that my brother were present.
‘It appears that there was some sort of breakdown in communication and your location, your very existence, was not discovered until recently.’
‘Yes Aunt.’
‘Don’t “yes aunt me”, girl. I am most vexed. I require to know all the particulars.’
‘I do not know the full facts Aunt, except that I was brought up by the family of an acquaintance of my mother. Both my parents died and I find myself here. I Think Fitzwilliam would be able to give you more information as to the circumstances.’
‘Fitzwilliam, fiddlesticks. He has not been as forthcoming as I would wish in this matter and I believe much of the circumstances of your arriving so suddenly has been kept away from me for some undisclosed reason. I am most vexed and displeased. But enough of that for now, but mark my words Georgina, I will get to the bottom of this. You will of course come visit me at Rosings Park in Kent; the warmer climate would do well for your pasty complexion. Initially, a short visit of not more than a month should suffice. Your cousin Ann is anxious to meet with you. You are young, I see; what thirteen?’
‘Just fourteen, if you please Aunt.’
‘You have a governess?’
‘One is being arranged, I believe.’
‘I know of a good one. I used her for my dear daughter. She cost upwards of twenty pounds a year with board, but you cannot put a price on a good education. I will speak to Darcy about it.’
‘Thank you Aunt.’
‘This room is adequate but the room I will reserve for you at Rosings Park is larger and has a better aspect. I will leave now, but I desire that I am informed of what you are doing and where you are going. I will not be kept in the dark. I expect to see you shortly at Rosings Park. You may kiss me.’
She came and leaned over the bed and I kissed her cheek.
‘Good day to you Georgiana.’
With that, she left and I felt that some sort of immovable force had finally left the room.
When I told my brother about the impromptu visit, he laughed.
‘You did well to fence off her questions Georgiana. She has the personality of one whose will is something of an overpowering nature. She would have me marry Ann, her daughter, but I promise you that will never happen. I try to steer clear of Kent for that very purpose!’
~*~
The day finally came when I was allowed out of my room and with care; I was allowed to roam freely. I had only experienced the one room and I marvelled at the rest of that great house; its opulence and splendour never ceased to amaze me. It was large, so very large and the grounds were wonderful and of a far grander a scale than I could ever imagine. The park was very grand and the woods extensive. There was a large lake and a river ran through it. Altogether, I was very much in love with the splendours of Pemberley.
The clothes that I now wore were, to say the least, of the finest materials. When in my sick bed, I was shown many fabrics and seamstresses took careful measurements and made such dresses that I could only dream of being able to wear when I was but a humble maid. I now possessed wonderful gowns of silk, satin and other fine fabrics and I felt so pretty in them.
I dearly wanted to go to dances, but dear Fitzwilliam knew that I was of an age when it would not be right and proper to do so, as I was not out in society and would not be so for a few years at least.
However, Fitzwilliam was concerned that I should be the equal of all the other genteel girls of substance and breeding and as mentioned before, I was to have a governess. Luckily I did not have the governess of Ann De Bourgh who, I heard was not a very nice person and had brought tears to Ann on a number of occasions, but another; Emily Spencer, a genteel woman who due to strained circumstances, deemed it necessary to find work. Miss Spencer was about five and twenty years of age and was of a pleasant nature and knew many of the things deemed necessary for me to eventually be allowed out into society as a well rounded young woman. I will not bore you, dear reader with the details of my education as; no doubt, you will have experienced something similar.
~*~
It had been some weeks since I had sent my letter to my sister Julia. I had a brief reply in return to say that she faired well and would write more when she had the time and opportunity. But there was something, was the letter tear stained?
One morning at breakfast, I told my brother of my concerns about Julia and whether she was happy where she was.
‘You have reasons for your concerns?’
‘Yes; her aunt and uncle are not what one would call of an affectionate nature. When I was under their roof, they made no secret of their dislike of me. My mother also had concerns about them but she did not voice any specifics. Julia had not recovered from her sickness and had to go and live with them, as she was no longer strong enough to work as a maid. It was very charitable for them to take her in, but I sensed that it was only out of family duty rather than any deep love that they had for her.
‘The only correspondence that I have received from Julia gives me no hint as to her happiness and I am very concerned for her. We are close, as close as any sisters can be, I feel so guilty that I am here with you dear Fitzwilliam and she might be in a place where there is no love.’
My brother thought for a moment and then turned to me.
‘You wish for me to make enquires as to her position?’
‘I would much rather visit her and see for myself.’
He looked at me with brotherly concern and then smiled.
‘You feel well enough to go and see her?’
‘I believe so, if you are willing to accompany me.’
‘I would not allow you to go by yourself and I will, of course, accompany you. We shall go early tomorrow. I did have plans to go hunting, but the pheasant’s can wait until next week. Leave everything to me.’
~*~
I will forgo description of the journey, dear reader, as the roads travelled were similar to the ones used when going to my mothers’ funeral. Indeed, we stayed at the same inns, although we had the best rooms rather than the cheapest! I cannot say that I was not tired at the end of the journey, but as we were using our own coach and four, it was at least as comfortable as it could possibly be.
And so it happened that I found myself back at Upper Lowerbury and at the house of Uncle William and Aunt Sophie. Nothing much had changed and it was much as I had remembered it.
I waited in the coach when my brother knocked upon the door. The door opened and there, I could see, was Aunt Sophie.
I did not hear what was said, but Fitzwilliam was let into the house. It had been decided that I would not accompany him as they were not aware that I was no longer George and that would have caused both my sister and myself some embarrassment.
He was in the house for some moments and then he hurriedly came over had a few words to say to Masters, our coachman and then entered the carriage.
‘Georgiana, I must be quick. Your sister is not very well and has been badly used by these people. Do you wish her to come with us?’
‘Of all things Brother. Oh what has happened!’
‘No time to talk now; I will go with Masters and assist Julia. Stay here, my dear, as I do not wish you to have anything to do with these people. All will be explained later.
With that he went back into the house with Masters and a short while later, I gasped as they came back carrying my dear Julia between them. She was in a nightgown, one that I could see, even at that distance, was soiled and dirty.
She brought into the carriage and placed on the padded seat opposite me.
‘Oh Julia, what has been done to you?’ I cried as I went to her and hugged her.
She was barely awake and just whispered my name before closing her eyes.
‘Fitzwilliam, what has occurred?’
‘I do not know and her aunt was not willing or able to tell me. It appears that Julia’s uncle is a man that will not be crossed and he would not call out the doctor when your sister became ill once more. Julia will be better off with us and we can care for her and give her the help she needs.’
‘You would do that for her?’
‘Yes, but more than that I would do that for you, my dear sister.’
Epilogue
As I sit here overlooking my splendid park and gardens at Longmere, all that I have written has brought back many memories some bad, but many good.
My childhood was a strange one, stranger than most I would wager. I suppose my complete happiness started with the rescue of Julia. She spoke little of the time spent with her aunt and uncle. It appears that they used her cruelly as an unpaid servant, even though she went to them for comfort and support after her terrible illness.
The menial work that Julia had been forced to do in her delicate health made her grow ill again and at the time when my dear brother plucked her from the clutches of that terrible pair, she was weak, starving and close to death once more. But, in herself, glowed a strong will to live and gradually, under the guidance of the doctors and the good nurse Benson, she regained her health and vitality.
How anyone could treat a close relative like that was beyond my comprehension, but I was still but a child and had a rosy view on life despite all that had happened, which, luckily for me, has still not left me.
Fitzwilliam wanted to take the matter further regarding the ill treatment of Julia. Indeed, being a magistrate he could have used his influence to make things very uncomfortable for Julia’s aunt and uncle. However, Julia herself asked that they be left in peace, not wanting to show to the world that members of her family could be such hurtful people.
A few years after the events detailed before, Julia married the local vicar, a Mister Childs; unlike a certain other vicar who had the partronage of my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, he was a kind, gentle man with a ready wit and above all, the love of my sister. They have but three children and I spoil them whenever I see them.
I will gloss over certain matters regarding Mr Wickham, as another has outlined my involvement with that gentleman and as it is a painful episode in my life, I draw a line under it and will speak of it no more.
The Honourable Lord Phillip, another person who I do not like to think of, died in a duel about a year after the events described here, following a card game, where he was caught, I understand, with too many aces up his sleeve. I do not think that many mourned his passing.
On a happier note, my darling brother Fitzwilliam married Elizabeth Bennett after certain silly misunderstandings involving pride on the one part and prejudice on the other. I was so happy for them both. For myself, I had another dear sister who I love and cherish and two more children to lavishly spoil.
I look down on the lawn where my husband, Arthur, Lord Heaversham is playing with Elizabeth and Julia, our two daughters and smile contentedly. Arthur is a handsome man, who I loved almost on first sight at the Spring Ball we held at Pemberton some eight and a half years ago. He said that he loved me as soon as he saw me too, but I believe that it was after I trod on his feet twice that he truly fell for me!
I am so happy now and I feel blessed that I have the love of my family. I never could have thought in my wildest dreams that a small boy, brought up in a forge could possibly be in the position I now find myself to be.
There is a whimpering beside me and I smile as I look down at my youngest child Fitzwilliam, in his cot. Picking him up, I feed him. He is always a hungry child just like his father and he will, in the fullness of time and God willing, take over the estates and be the next Earl of Heaversham. I know that the doctors thought that I might not be able to bear them, but I have spent a large amount of my married life awaiting the birth of my children.
Fitzwilliam has now fallen asleep holding on to my little finger. I should put him back into his cot. Nurse sometimes chastises me for wanting to hold my baby so much, but I am firm on that point. Children need all the love that they can receive from their parents and I intend to give all the love that I can possibly give, no matter how old my darling children get, while there is still breath in my body.
My husband looks up from his rather energetic play with our boisterous girls in their pretty white dresses, hairs all beribboned. I will ask one of the maids to take them their bonnets, for the day is hot and there heads unprotected.
They are going to break hearts one day, but for now, they are just happy to play as children should and not worry about the future.
Arthur glances up and sees me, then he smiles and waves; little Elizabeth and Julia join in and copy their papa. I wave back happily. My baby snores slightly in his sleep, his little thumb in his mouth. I am sure that he is smiling.
Life is so good to me.
THE END
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* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Georgiana looks like this.